Mind Game
by neoolong
Summary: No sophomore slump allowed.  Xander's now working without a safety net and without the old crew to run back to.  He'll have to step up it up, if he expects to come out on top with everything set in motion.  The sequel to Spy Game.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Code Eight**

The slayer skidded to a stop beside the tree. She tried to slow her breathing, and strained to hear everything that was going on around her. She heard the wind whistle through the few remaining leaves on the trees around her. They had somehow miraculously stayed on through the season. Some rustling, caused by foraging animals could be heard around her. In the distance, the gurgling of the creek could be made out. Nothing else though. At least nothing intelligible that she could make out.

Her breath fogged in the air as she heard a couple of birds fly through the air, likely looking for food as well. She leaned against the tree, feeling the cool rough bark of the tall, thick brown trunk. She peered around it carefully, not wanting to show herself too soon. She didn't see much moving through the thickly forested area in front of her however. No animals in view anymore. Even camouflaged, it was unlikely they would have missed her watchful gaze.

After a moment, a small shape streaked through the dirt in front of her, moving off deeper into the brush to her right. Less keen eyes than hers would have missed the red fox with a field rat in its mouth rushing by. It was likely a male out hunting for food. Probably he was now bringing it back to its den and probable mate and a couple of cubs. She felt something of a connection for the beast for she was hunting herself.

A scratching, like that of thick skin brushing past dry branches caught her attention to the left. Her dark eyes locked on the location, tracking the smallest amount of movement that was the only evidence she could see of her prey. She could the faintest black shape move into the trees in that direction.

She moved forward, careful to avoid touching any of the larger branches that would likely snap at her passing. She wouldn't make the same mistake as her prey. The makeshift path that she followed ended at the edge of the creek. It was rather narrow in the winter, but not frozen over. It smelled clean.

The slayer saw small tracks in the mud along the edge of the creek, leading into the water. She moved forward carefully, making sure that nothing was coming up behind her or attempting to flank her. She knelt down and looked at the deep tracks in the mud, not bothering to touch them. Deep indentations in the front showed that the creature she was looking for had large claws and was heavy. The parallel nature indicated that it was bipedal with the stride indicating a short stature. The displacement of the mud suggested that the target had been running. She was getting close.

The slayer got up and looked down the creek in both directions. She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, so just moved towards the right, following her instincts.

As she passed a few trees that had grown close to the edge of the water, she saw a shadow pass before the ground in front of her. Her instincts had chosen correctly. It was too late however.

The shape landed on her back grabbing hold, struggling to maintain its hold on its prey. The slayer on the other hand, tried to buck the figure off of her back. It didn't work though. The dark, thickly armored figure stayed on her, driving her to the ground. A rasping sound, like a laugh echoed around her as she tried to get free.

The slayer fell to her knees, but tried once more to displace the figure that had her in a tight hold. She managed to pull its legs under her arm, utilizing her enhanced strength to get the figure in front of her. She managed to get a grip on the dark figure's sides, holding it down. The thick hide of the thing seemed thinner there.

"Had enough?" The slayer said, keeping the figure steady, despite it's squirming. She straightened her arms and moved her upper torso back to avoid the creature's flailing arms. Claws tipped its hands as well.

"No." The creature tried to squirm out of the slayer's tight grip. Unfortunately, even its slick, scaled skin wasn't slippery enough to slip out of her grasp.

"No?" The slayer repeated. She bent a little closer, still careful of its arms. "How about now?"

She started tickling. The figure started to squirm even more, a rasping laugh emanating from its wide, sharply toothed mouth. The creature shook its large head. It didn't last long though.

"No…no. I give up. I give up." The small fish man, or rather boy, tried to get the slayer to stop, but couldn't control his limbs. Still writhing, he grunted out, "you win. You win."

Dana giggled too. She stood up after a moment more, helping her "prey" to his feet. Abe tried to brush the mud off of his skin, to little avail. He'd have to get hosed down before he went inside. That was never fun. But, it was worth it.

He pouted. "No fair."

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Xander flipped the page on his book, looking up briefly to watch as Dana and her young friend ran around the field near the creek. He smiled as he watched them play. They didn't get that much time outside, especially in the winter. At least the two were making the most of it.

He was just glad that Dana was doing better. The drug treatment had had the desired effect. The slayer aspects of her psyche were mostly sorted out and integrated now. The biological and mystical confusion that had been created by her calling had been fixed. The rest of it was being handled through her routine sessions with Dr. Farmiga. It wasn't so simple as that, but it was a hell of a lot better than the treatment she had been getting in LA. Or what the Council would have been able to give her with their still lack of psychiatric personnel.

Even though the visits outside with her friend were somewhat doctor prescribed, a safe outlet for the hunterly nature of the slayer inside of her, it also did give her a chance to be free. If only for a little while, and within certain boundaries.

The sentry next to him shifted in his heavy coat as he watched the two play. He had been standing there for a couple of hours already. It was his turn on guard duty. The man didn't tell the others, but he rather looked forward to the assignment. A lot lighter than some of the other things that they were called on to do. And though none of the other regulars would admit it, they also did look upon the two as their own children. And doted upon like they were grandchildren.

Xander continued to read for a while, the sun still bright in the sky, despite the cool air. He heard someone come up to him, but kept his head down until he finished the page. He bent the top page corner down and closed the book. He set it beside him as he looked up.

Vi looked down at her boyfriend. She bent down to sit next to him. "What're you reading?"

He showed her the cover of the well-worn and flipped through hardcover textbook. Not one of his favorites, as if there was such a thing, but one of those subjects that he needed to keep on top of. It couldn't all just be physical training after all. Not many hunters had ever survived through so much as he had, even in the short time he had been operating. At least not simply by being able to hit harder or shoot straighter than most. Not alone at any rate.

"Forensic Pathology?" Vi cocked her head. She had a look of mild amusement on her face, and struggled to suppress the desire to laugh at the rather incongruous sight. The cool winter air made her cheeks and the tip of her nose slightly red. "A little light reading for the afternoon?"

"Its even got pictures. With color." Xander smirked. He shrugged and leaned in closer to his girlfriend. "It's like being back in school, just with words with more syllables. And more charts."

"Hard to imagine you as a student." Vi smiled back. It was odd seeing him engrossed in something like that despite the fact that she had seen it before. Of course, in her experience with the others in Ohio, only the scholarly types in the library tended to read that much. The rest just relied on what the watchers and wizards remembered or could pull up.

Dana and Abe ran closer to them, though more focused on what they were doing themselves.

"School of hard knocks I guess." Xander stood up. He held his hand out and helped Vi up. "You don't get to stay where I am by not keeping up on things. Not all of us get our thing out of the blue. We sometimes have to work for it. How're things?"

Vi accepted the hand, and stood up. She knew that his words weren't a dig at her personally. After all, she did train just as hard as any of the rest. Even now. She may have been given something of a gift, but she had worked to shape it. To make it hers. Being a slayer meant embracing it, not just assuming that it made her better than the things she fought. "Good. The new slayer seems to be working out pretty well."

"Really? That's good. Alistair's the only one on the team with significant field time in this thing," Xander stated, as he put his book back in his shoulder bag and slung it over his shoulder. The two of them started walking towards the building that housed their organization. He looked over and saw the young homo icthyus come out of the dry field with Dana. They walked towards him. The guard falling into step beside the pair. "They'll need the help."

Alistair Chadwick was an independent that had been recruited a while back. Sorcerer by trade; one that Cindy had some acquaintance with. The magical side to the new slayer's muscle. David Kilmartin, late of LAPD SWAT, was heading it up. A veteran now, what with what went down in LA the year or two before. Leander Smythe, Dominic Franklin, and the newly transferred MP Major Drake Childe filled out the rest of the team. Childe was one of those that had been kept on from Alaska.

The team hadn't been given a name, official or not, yet, and had no big missions to test them yet. But, the time was coming. As it always was.

"Is it always going to take this long to build up the other teams?" Vi asked, watching the child wander around. It was rather surreal seeing it. Would have even freaked her out if she hadn't led the life she'd led for the last year or so. "And wow, he's gotten really big."

"Lampkin wants to do it right. Especially if his goddaughter's going to be onboard. Pretty big surprise when he found that out. For her parents too." Xander looked at what had caught Vi's eye as he trailed off. "And yeah, Abe's getting pretty big. Apparently a holdover from some of the shark DNA he's got in him. Extreme growth rate. That's what Wesker says anyway. He's even talking already. Taken a real liking to Dana also."

"It's sweet," Vi said, as she took Xander by the hand. She kept her eye on the two still running around, chasing each other. "So why Abe?"

"Hmm?" Xander asked, as they walked down the path. "Why Abe what?"

"The name. Why Abe?" Vi asked again. "Does it mean anything?"

"Abe Sapien. The resident icthyo-man from Hellboy," Xander explained. He shrugged. "I figured it was appropriate. And, could prove a decent role model for him. You know, as opposed to the Creature from the Black Lagoon."

Vi shook her head. Leave it to him to geek out over the child's name. The slayer looked at him, somewhat shyly this time. "Do you…do you ever think about having kids?"

The government man hesitated for a moment. He looked over at her. "Honestly? Yeah, sometimes I do. Why? It seems like you're still a little young to be a mom. And, I definitely know your parents are way too young to be having grandkids."

The trip to Colorado had gone well enough. A real thanksgiving, the likes of which he hadn't had in well, ever. At least he didn't get syphilis this time.

Her parents were thankful for the obvious. Though had heavily intimated that he had best make sure that he took care of her. Like he needed the subtle threat. All in all, though it had been a mix of feelings for him, though given the distance he now had with his emotions, much of it was through observation. Like he was an objective observer to what was going on before Xander's life. There was obvious love and care. Even though Vi was still rather new to the familial unit, she was a part of it. Even he was added into it, given his intimate relationship with the family through their daughter. That was mixed with discomfort. Given his upbringing, it was mostly due to his unfamiliarity with such events. Even with Willow and Jesse, there hadn't been more than a friend level to things, especially as they got older.

Belonging to a family. Not just being part of one. The requisite give and take. It was odd to him. Even now. After a year or so back. Like an old suit that hadn't been worn and one couldn't feel seated in. Growth in different directions making it feel awkward.

But, one look at the woman beside him, and he knew that it was worth the effort. A lot more effort than he had put into most things in his life. Even, unfortunately to think about, his relationship with Anya.

"I know," Vi said, squeezing his hand. Glad that he shared the notion of children. Of a future, with her. "It's just, after being raised with just a bunch of watchers and all, and then going home, I just, know that I want to have kids. Someday. To have a family."

"I can just imagine-" Xander broke off as his work phone rang. He let go of Vi's hand and pulled it out of his pocket, checking the number on the display set in the faceplate. He stopped walking when he saw who it was. He opened it and put it to his ear. "Hello, Detective Lockely. What can I do for you?"

Vi watched as he took the call. Whatever it was it seemed serious.

"Okay. Okay. Can you describe what it looks like? Color, skin texture, everything. Hmm. Right the database, that does make things easier. Okay, give me a minute." Xander took the cell phone away from his ear. "Vi, let me have your phone."

He took the phone from his girlfriend and then opened it, scrolling up through the phonebook until he had reached Cindy's entry. It only rang a few times before being answered. "Cindy, this is Xander. I need you to run a species check for me. Ready? Okay. What's the decomp rate on M'fashniks?"

He waited for the answer as the witch looked up the information on her computer. Or just pulled it from some book she had open. Too bad they didn't have the reference texts that Wolfram and Hart used. Luckily, it didn't take long. "Okay. Good, that'll work. I need you to get the team together. And, bring along a forensics team. Full CSI job. We need to Gil Grissom this thing. I'll fill you in on the details when I get back. Wait, Abby's still in Wisconsin right?"

Xander glanced over at his girlfriend. He spoke into the phone, "no it's okay, I'll think of something. Get the team together. We'll need to leave as soon as possible. Okay. Bye."

Xander closed the phone and tossed it back to Vi. He put the other one to his ear. "Okay. Cordon off the area; no one gets in or out. The body will last till I can get there. I have to get some people together, but we should be able to be there in, five hours. Just keep everyone away. If you get a chance, send me anything you have so far. I'll check it enroute. Call me back if you need to have something official to get the area cleared."

"What was that about?" Vi asked, as her boyfriend put the phone back in his pocket.

"Local contact back in the city," Xander explained, as he checked his watch. He saw that Dana and Abe were looking at him. He smiled at them as they walked up to him. He knelt down in front of the boy, looking him in the eyes. "I have to go to work. Chris will get you back, okay?"

Dana and Abe nodded and followed the sentry back to Level 6.

"A job?" Vi questioned.

"Yeah. Dead demon." Xander looked out for a second, lost in thought. "Out in the human world apparently. The good detective thought it alarming enough to ask for help on."

"And you need a slayer," Vi continued.

"Well, I wouldn't presume to order…" Xander trailed off, somewhat wondering how he was supposed to handle things. Her whole team had gone to New York with her, taking position as the resident special team to his broader mixed one. Still, after Paris, they had gotten a lot closer, especially with her now living with him. It wasn't that they weren't equals, but there would be a difference in rank out in the field. Different skill sets were excelled in by each of them, but that didn't mean that equality could necessarily occur. He didn't want to seem patronizing in any case. And, he was in charge and had to act like it. "Sara needs the field time after all."

"Of course I'll come." Vi pouted. Like he even had to ask. "And all orderly. Very in command of you. Very butch."

"Right. Funny." Xander started walking again. He thought about the short conversation he had just had over the phone. Not just the words, which gave him some idea of what lay before him. But, also the way the detective said it. Or didn't as the case may be. The tension was obvious. There was probably a lot that had happened beforehand that she hadn't let him in on. Given what seemed to be a rather stubborn nature, it wasn't surprising. Which meant that whatever this was, it was over even what she believed her limit to be, even after the opinion of her had risen with an appropriate unofficial communiqué from the Department of Homeland Security. That didn't bode well for any of them. "Look, this one, I don't know, I just get the feeling that this one seems serious. Apparently this demon got hit in an apartment building, and not a complete hole that is the usual abode. Neighbors seem to be all-human from what Kate says. This one doesn't seem to be the normal type of demon attack. Nor the normal type of, well, victim I guess."

"That why you want the full team?" Vi asked, as she watched Xander figure through things. Still something to be beheld. If only because of the sheer stream of conscious nature of it. Probably not that impressive to someone that had been well-trained to do it, but he had his own way of stumbling into the heart of things. Through empathy if nothing else.

"Better safe than sorry. Better having everyone there, even if we don't need them. It's not like we pay by the hour anyways." Xander shrugged. He looked towards the building that was just up the path. He could even see his office window from where he was standing. "Anyway, we should get going. Got to pack up."

They walked back to the headquarters, hand in hand, in silence.

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Author's Note: Well, the first part of it up. Hopefully it'll flow better than my first story. It'll be less regular in terms of updating though since the schedule was kicking my ass after a while. I want to update at least once a week, though even that probably won't be that stable until at least December.

Anyway, I hope you like it. Please review. Though, I guess there's not much up yet.

-Updated grammar 1/10/08 - thanks to RudyHenkel


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter 1: Next of Kin **

"Unh," Xander said, as he knelt down. He was looking at the body of a dead demon. The M'Fashnik was sprawled out on the floor of the messy apartment in the same position he had likely died in. The hunter look up at his partner and asked, "any ideas?"

"He's dead, Jim," Curtis remarked looking at the corpse, dispassionately. He wasn't sure exactly what he should be looking for. He had seen dead bodies before. Even those of demons, but it wasn't usually like this. And he usually didn't have to figure out what happened to them either.

Xander examined the corpse as closely as he could without touching the body, though he did have gloves on. Textbooks and lectures aside, it wasn't like he was an expert. The forensics team would go over the body later and conduct the autopsy. It probably wouldn't tell them much useful, but they might get lucky. It would also establish time of death, though he had his own guesses on that.

The demon had put up a fight. Slashes and stab wounds on its body. Damage to its hands and arms. Defensive wounds. A deep hit in the upper chest was the most likely finisher. All in all, it was a hell of a way to die.

He turned his head to look at a small blood trail leading from the body towards the door. It was greenish. Obviously not human. It wasn't hard to figure out whom it belonged to. "Good one. I must be brushing off on you."

Curtis didn't react to that. "So what do you think we're looking at? Victim or he had it coming to him?"

"There's always someone with a grudge." Xander shook his head. Maybe it was too much CSI, but he was imagining the "crime" in his head. Of course, he could be looking at a multiple murderer at the moment. "But, right now, we stick with victim."

He stood up and looked around, taking the scene in. It was a fairly well-furnished apartment. One bedroom with a large bed and one bath. A bachelor's apartment. A large window set into the side of the wall next to a bookshelf gave a good view of the building next door.

Xander walked around the main room avoiding the fallen furniture, combing for details at the site of the demon's death. He walked to a bookshelf along the wall, noting a couple of pictures on it. One man was in all of them. A rather tall and well-built figure with dark hair.

He looked out the window next to it, noting the cars driving by below and the traffic lights at the corner. It looked like any other street scene in New York City. Just a bunch of people going about their business. All careful though, given the less than reputable area. Especially since it was already getting dark. Still, it wasn't that bad. Lower middle class going to pot. Xander turned back to his work.

He left the room and checked out the kitchen, opening drawers and cupboards noting the neatly placed plates and dishes. He closed them and turned around.

"Any ideas?" Detective Lockely asked, as she watched the young demon hunter wander back into the main room. While obviously skilled in his own way, given his connections, she was rather unsure about simply handing the investigation to the government agent. Despite the local versus federal rivalry, which he had done his best to avoid, the man was throwing his weight around. And his rather flighty way of investigating the scene was not doing much to appease her sense of professionalism.

She walked closer to the man and watched him turn, still slightly off put by the eye. Or rather, the lack thereof. The detective wondered for a moment why she had called him in on this specific case. It wasn't the first demon death she had seen. Though most of those seemed to be the work of the various demon hunters that sometimes rolled through town. Or the result of some demon on demon action. A gut feeling maybe, but this didn't seem like any of the others. And those were never in such a location. She made a note to tell him about the others she had found. Oddly enough though, there weren't that many vampires. She'd dusted one or two in her time here, but they were rather rare. Or maybe just better at covering their tracks than those in Los Angeles. Or it was simply the result of them not leaving remains, their own at any rate.

"Walk me through this." Xander looked past the detective toward the other member of his team that he had brought along to look at the scene. Cindy was doing her own going over, attempting to find any magical traces of the person or persons that had killed the demon.

Curtis was looking around as well, utilizing his own perspective. Still since it wasn't a robbery as far as they could tell, they didn't have much to go on. At least given what he had done in the Bureau.

"I got the call earlier from the apartment manager. He got my name somehow and told me that there was a situation I should probably check out. Something more than natural," Kate explained. It hadn't really surprised her when she had got the call. In being the one cop in town willing to poke around in the shadows, her name had gotten around. A blessing in some cases. But not on her reputation in the department. "This is what I found."

Xander nodded and walked back to the shelf. He turned back to the picture. There was something about it. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Something off about the man's appearance. "Go on."

"Well, I found this. I put in an inquiry about the tenant, but nothing so far. No reason why this should have turned up here. As far as the manager says, a perfectly normal individual. Yet, he got caught up in this. Whatever it is," Kate continued. "So, I called you. If there is someone missing, then we need to find him."

"Right," Xander said, rather unconvinced. "What's the manager's connection?"

"His cousin runs a magic shop," Kate replied.

"Xander, check this out." Cindy called from the doorway to the bedroom. She raised her latex gloved hand and showed him a inch wide strip of leather. "You guys need to look at this."

The individuals in the room walked towards her and looked at what she was carrying. From close-up Xander could tell that it was actually a collar made of dark leather. Wellworn, it had seen obvious use. A silvery metal crisscrossed along its length, ending in a steel clasp. A single, multi-faceted crystal was set on the buckle. It was set in silver, with small lines of gold leading into the cloudy white stone. He could see a small indentation on the inside surface of the collar. Some kind of stylized letter. A manufacturer's trademark or something most likely.

"Is that what I think it is?" Xander asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach made him uneasy. He dreaded the response that he knew would be coming. He hoped it was just his lack of familiarity with magical objects, but he knew that it wasn't.

"Yeah," Cindy nodded her head slowly. The witch pulled out a plastic bag and placed the collar into it. The techs had already gone through the place with cameras, so they knew where everything had been placed. She zipped up the bag and said, "it's a displacement collar. A Pax maker mark. This just keeps getting better and better."

"Aw crap," Xander muttered, unsurprised by what his teammate had found out. He looked back and noticed the detective's questioning gaze. "C'mon, we need to talk."

"We'll keep looking, but I think that's all the important personal stuff that's here." Cindy called after him.

Xander turned around, but looked over his shoulder. "One more thing. Please tell me that I'm just being narrow-minded and uncivilized and that they actually all do look the same."

"'Fraid not," Cindy responded wryly. She shook her head. "The coloring, the markings, he's related to Omic. From the looks of it, pretty close brood-mate if my biology is up to snuff."

"Uh, that mean what I think it means?" Xander asked the witch, who was a much better source for demonic lore and statistics than he was. He usually just remembered how best to kill the various types that inhabited the world.

"No," Cindy replied, with a smile. She shook her head in mild amusement. "Think cousins. First cousins. Something like that."

"That's still pretty close," Xander said, mostly speaking to himself. He remembered how intense the M'Fashnik could be. "Way too close."

He started to walk out of the main room and down the hallway to the door. He made sure that Kate was coming and he walked out the door. Kate followed him out into the hallway. She watched as the young man examined the door. "So what did you need to tell me?"

Xander looked at the busted door. It was hard wood. "You can forget about looking for the resident of this particular apartment."

Xander turned around and looked at the doorway across the hall. He reached out and touched it, feeling its cracked painted surface. He lightly tapped it, and then put his gloved hands behind his back. After a few moments an elderly woman opened the door a crack, the chain lock stretched nearly to the full. She looked at him suspiciously.

He smiled as nicely as he could while he looked down at her. "Sorry, wrong room."

The women just shook her head and shut the door.

Xander waited until the door closed and he heard the woman walk deeper into the apartment before turning back around and looking at the doorjamb set into the frame of the door to the crime scene. Then he looked at the hanging stile of the door. There was obvious damage, just as there was on the doorjamb. He knocked on the door, more for confirmation than to tell him anything that he didn't already know or suspect.

"Why is that?" Kate asked, not exactly getting what Xander was looking at.

"Because the tenant of this apartment, is lying in the family room." Xander stated. He ran a hand over the center of the door, feeling an uneven depression near the center. It was roughly foot sized. A small foot.

He thought for a moment then took a step back, looking down at his legs. He looked down the hall at both ends. There was no one there. He raised his leg and slowly kicked out, noting where he would have struck. It was just a little above where the knob was set. The actual damage to the door was centered below that.

If it was him, he would have tried a full shoulder. Even if he wasn't built like a tank.

He looked at the detective, and felt himself get embarrassed. He ignored the feeling.

Xander walked back into the apartment and closed the door a bit. He could feel a bump in the wood, corresponding to the area that had been indented on the other side. Some not just for decoration metal bars were bent by the force of the hit as well.

"What? How is that possible?" Kate questioned.

"Displacement collar. It's a masking device given to members of the Pax, uh peaceful demon group, they're not that well known and tend to keep to themselves. They use the collars when they want to fit in. When they want to pass," Xander replied. He examined the wall next to the door and lightly tapped it. It was thick. Thicker than he would have expected in the apartment building. The hard floors felt like they had sound insulating pack in there too. Which was weird, but maybe the original designers had wanted to go upscale but then found out that the street had other ideas.

"Pass?" Kate echoed.

"For human," Xander explained.

"But, he's…" Kate tried to say. "I mean, it's supposed to be some guy. Blue collar job. He's lived at this address for the last eight years. No history of violence or any criminal activity. Your average citizen."

"Which is likely what this guy is." Xander turned to her. "Way I see it, this, this was murder."

"And we care about the "murder" of a demon because?" Kate questioned. While she may have made an exception for Angel, and a few others, she didn't really see how it ranked as murder. Or why they would be so invested, aside from the rather public nature of the death.

Xander looked at her with a cocked head. "Equal protection under the law. Perhaps you've heard of it, detective. Besides, I wouldn't want any loose cannons offing just anybody. Demon or not. They tend to have families. Who can hold grudges and are less than subtle with the way they choose to settle them. Besides, they're pretty much all like people anyway. Just, funny looking, to us anyway."

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"Okay." Xander said, as the forensics team, or rather pair, wheeled the body out. They would bring it back to their base of operations and start the more detailed examination of the body. Hopefully, it would help. But, he doubted it. Even accounting for the unique physiology there wasn't much that they would be able to find. Even cause of death seemed obvious. Though, it was better to be thorough and not simply jump to conclusions. "This is the way I see it."

Xander walked towards the hallway, but stayed in the main room. The others turned to watch him. He pointed at the center of the door at the end of the door. "Okay, this? This is not your normal door. This is a custom job. The apartment across from this has what looks like the standard door. Solid core with particleboard filler. Typical for places like this for exteriors. Floors and walls are a bit thicker than you'd think, but still. The door on the other hand; custom job like I said. Solid through and through. Hard wood. Expensive, but built for strength. It's even got iron bar backing. It was kicked in. Hard enough right in the center to do extensive damage to both the locks and the hinges and bend the bars. Even cracking the surface to the back of the door. That's some pretty high strength in a small area. I'm talking hefty."

Xander walked back into the room and stepped next to the area where the body had previously lain. He looked around the room at the strewn furnishing. It looked like the tenant could have simply been messy. However, he had seen the bathroom and the kitchen. The former tenant had been anything but messy in life. "There was a fight. And this guy, lost. From the looks of it, it wasn't all one-sided, but no blood from the person that did this as far as we can tell. The techs will run it through, but I'd say no more than bruising on the other side."

"Which means?" Kate asked after listening to the explanation. It made sense at any rate, and matched her own conclusions. Of course, it didn't exactly justify bringing him in. Still, he had helped with identifying the "victim."

"Which means that it could be only one of a couple of things," Xander replied. "One individual with a small foot size kicked in the door. They entered, probably alone or with others that stayed out of the way, and engaged in a fight with the unmasked victim and killed him with what look like stab wounds. From the width, it looks like a sword. The geeks will have to confirm, but my first guess is something short, but wide. One handed sword, short enough to not get caught up in a fight in close spaces. Gladius maybe. Something like that. Mostly a thrusting sword I'd reckon from the looks of the slashes."

"Okay, that can all be confirmed, but we still need to figure out who did it," Curtis added. Much of what Xander had said was supposition, but they had done this long enough to know that he was more than usually right. It was all somewhat based on fact, and Xander knew enough about his own biases not to let that interfere with the investigation. And, not to simply assume he was right. The only thing was that the facts didn't always come around fast enough to be able to solely rely on them.

"Right. From the force needed to take the door, the weapons use, and the environment we're looking at someone small and strong. Unhumanly strong," Xander continued. He looked at the audience in front of him. "Which leaves a small demon capable of taking an M'Fashnik. Even if he was probably taken by surprise. Or a slayer or other enhanced human."

Kate clenched her jaw. She had had to deal with such situations before. It didn't bode well. "Not a vampire?"

"Rented apartment. The rule even applies to demons. Still, even assuming an invitation, it seems unlikely." Xander shook his head. It was possible, though not exactly probable. "And, from what it seems like, though we'll need to have the coroner confirm TOD, but it seems to have occurred during the day. The unshaded window means that the attacker couldn't have gotten close enough to be splattered with enough blood to drip as it did. At least, not without leaving some obvious fire damage. It also means that the attack was quiet enough to be masked by the floors and walls. Or some masking spell to dampen the noise."

"No," Cindy shook her head. "I'd have picked up something. This was done straight."

"Okay," Xander nodded. "Which means this was done very very quickly. A short fight, plenty of damage to the victim and he was ended with very little noise. Whoever she, he, or it, is, we're talking real skill here."

Kate nodded, accepting the explanation. It made sense. And, was probably what she would get if she had an official investigative team go over the area. "So what do we do?"

"Curtis, have Vi get in touch with Faith. It's probably not going to be Council, but we need to rule them out." Xander started giving his orders. "Also, tell Paul to get in touch with his superiors. I want to know if any of their own hunters are in the city or if they know any indies that are currently here."

"Okay," Curtis answered.

"Cindy, get in touch with your sources. Run it through the vine, any other public hits like this. Similar M.O. or otherwise. Concentrate on things that don't have any background. This may be a grudge, but I get the feeling it's not. It was a hit, then they walked out. No real emotion as far as I can tell about this. They hurt this guy, but they were going for the kill," Xander continued down the line. "Also, run a tracking spell, I want to see if there are any slayers we don't know about in town."

"It's not going to be easy," Cindy replied. While Willow had been able to feel all of the slayers before, the linkage had not been a permanent one. It was one of the reasons why there were still new ones to be found. "There's enough ambient magic in New York to mask them if they're not really close. Maybe we'll get lucky, but…"

"Yeah, I know." Xander nodded. He looked down, not looking forward to what he would have to. "I'll need to talk to Cowler and his group. And Omic."

He sighed, it wouldn't going to be easy.

"So, I'm coming with you." Kate stated, not asked from her place in the room.

"Right." Xander saw the look in the detective's face. He could tell she wouldn't take no for an answer. And would probably follow him if he had turned her down. "But first, get your partner to run through the traffic cams. Three days in and three days out to start I guess. Maybe we'll get lucky and catch something suspicious. After that, I want him to canvas the area. See if he can get witness statements on the down low. Probably nothing, since you haven't heard anything officially, but we can hope. I'll clear the time for him too if need be."

"Okay." Kate nodded. She was glad that he hadn't turned her down. "So what do we then?"

Xander took a breath and held it for a moment. He let it out and started for the door. "First, we close this up."

"And, then?" Kate asked, follow after him.

"And, then," Xander repeated, not turning around. "And, then I get to notify what is probably his next of kin. And, hope he doesn't take it out on me."

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Xander took a bag out of his car and slung it over his shoulder. He next pulled out a long manhole hook and a large orange traffic cone and set them on the curb. He made sure that there was nothing else necessary inside and shut the trunk. He pulled a flashlight out of the bag and tested it. Large and heavy, the beam it cast would be sufficient for their purposes. He put it on the trunk lid while he took another large flashlight from his bag and tested it too. Normally he wouldn't bother with such bulky things, given how they attracted attention. Of course, this time, that was the whole point. He didn't want to look like he was trying to hide.

The man looked at Kate who was standing by the front passenger door of the vehicle. "Leave your badge inside."

"Why?" Kate asked, not following his instructions. She knew he was the expert in this case, but she wouldn't just blindly follow orders.

"These guys are really insular. They don't like me hanging around as it is, and we don't want to piss them off by bringing a police into their midst," Xander explained. He pulled out a sawn off shotgun and loaded in two shells. He placed that into his shoulder bag. He may not want to annoy them, but he wouldn't walk into their midst without some type of protection. "Follow my lead, don't ask too many questions, and uh, well let's just hope it goes well. I assume you've had the typical cop training involving informing the family of the recently deceased."

"Yeah," Kate responded. She unclipped her badge and opened the door, placing it into the glove compartment.

"Then you can be the one to tell him." Xander smirked darkly. "But, seriously let me do the talking. And whatever you do, don't do anything hostile about what you're going to see. Remember, you're not a cop and they aren't trespassing. For tonight at least. Don't react."

The NYPD detective didn't look happy with that, but nodded. She didn't like being passive. It wasn't like her and she didn't think she could do it for much longer. But, as long as Xander seemed like he knew what he was doing, she would follow his lead.

Xander made sure he had everything and waited for Kate to get ready. He waited until the detective had walked to him and handed her the flashlights. He locked the car with the remote and picked up the tools he had left on the ground.

They headed to a manhole cover in an alley off the deserted street. Xander dropped the pylon by the cover and then went to work with the hook.

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"Angel brought you into this?" Xander said, as he played the flashlight off of the walls. He located the necessary blazes and guided them through. It wasn't the same way that he had gone before, but it would get them there just the same. At that time of night, it was better to avoid the other path.

"Yeah." Kate said, from his side. She pointed her flashlight ahead, rather perturbed at the discovery of the number of inhabitants that supposedly called the underground network of tunnels and abandoned stations under the city home. Not so much that people did live there. She was a New York detective now, it was one of the first things she had learned when working homicide. Rather it the exact demographics of the population rather surprised her. An integrated community, though separate, was rather different from the smaller groups that she had come to identify in Los Angeles. "You know him?"

Xander glanced at the pretty cop, eyes drifting to her hair. He muttered to himself, "of course, he would."

"What was that?" Kate asked, catching his somewhat appreciative glance. She didn't think he was so bad himself, but he was rather young. And, obviously already involved. It was nice being noticed though, even if it was clear it was more observation than interest.

Xander shook his head. "Nothing. Anyway, yeah I know him. Kind of."

"You don't like him," Kate stated, not a question. She could identify the tone in his voice, even if he didn't make his feelings all that readily apparent, at least to most people. She glanced at him.

Xander came to a stop. "It's not important."

"What was that?" Kate asked, still looking at him.

Xander looked at the couple of men that stood in up the tunnel from them. The flashlight reflected off of the tapetum of the eyes of one of the pair. They glowed green, and rather malevolently in his opinion. The light also revealed the weapons they had on them. The barbed tip of the razor sharp bolt furthered the less than friendly nature of the meet. "Cause we have other things to worry about."

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"You'll have to forgive them," Jurgen rasped out. He lit another candle set in the stone wall of the room they were in. Not the City. He couldn't risk that. Not anymore. "We've had some problems here. More so than the last time you were here. We found the bodies this time. A good many of them out in the tunnels."

"I can imagine." Xander said from his seat. He leaned back, stretching out. "I need to see Omic."

"Why?" Jurgen said. He picked up Xander's bag from the floor and propped it onto a rickety old wood table.

"We found a dead M'Fashnik up top." Xander glanced at Kate. She was taking it rather well. At least she hadn't pulled a gun when the two that had found them had pointed crossbows at them. "There's a picture in the front pocket. I wanted to see if Omic could identify the body."

Jurgen bent closer to the flickering candle and looked closer at the picture. He squinted his eyes. Looking up, he nodded his head at Cowler, sending him off to find the demon in question.

"What's been going on with you?" Xander asked.

Jurgen put the picture on the table. He leaned back against the wall, ignoring the growth on the wall and the stain it was leaving on his old ratty coat. "Some of the people we've send up top for supplies didn't make it back alive. Only the demons. A pretty wide mix. Not disappearances like last time. We're talking hits. Someone's been hunting us. And, some of my people are thinking it's you."

"Paranoid much?" Xander shook his head, guessing that Cordelia had rubbed off on him more than he had thought. It had somewhat improved his dress sense, even if it had taken another woman to make him see why it would be important. "It's not us. What do they want to do."

"Even Cowler wants to do something about this. Go up top and get some payback. " Jurgen shrugged. The facts of the matter were clear though when even level-headed Cowler wanted to act. "I don't like this. Every time you come down below you bring me grief. And, it's causing upheaval down here. I can't control my people if your world keeps intruding."

"I-" Xander broke off as he heard movement from behind his position. He turned around and watched as Omic walked up. "Am sorry."

Jurgen picked up the picture and walked toward him.

Xander leaned over to Kate as the two men talked. He couldn't hear what was going on, though it was getting rather animated. "There anything you haven't told me?"

"What do you mean?" Kate asked.

"How many more deaths have there been?" Xander asked, keeping his eyes on the demon that was looking rather angry.

"No more than usual," Kate responded. The night was a dangerous place. And she had had enough time to pick up its rhythms. Including the deaths that one could come across in the night. She hadn't come across more than usual that she couldn't find an explanation for. Or the perpetrator. "But, I guess I can't catch everything."

"Okay." Xander knew he should have pressed more and asked for details for each one. But, there hadn't really been the time. And, Kate hadn't exactly offered up any additional information. Guess they both had things they should have said. Though from the looks of it, and given Detective Lockely's track record, she probably did tell him everything important so far.

He straightened up as Omic came forward. Xander put his hands up, in a placating manner. "Look, I'll get to the bottom of this."

Omic dragged the young human up from the seat and slammed him against the wall. He ignored the woman as she stood up quickly as well. The candle dropped onto the floor, jarred from its makeshift holder bolted into the wall. The demon shouted, "who did it?"

"I don't know," Xander grunted out. He was tempted to bring his hands up and shove his thumbs into the demon's large eyes. But, he knew that the demon was just angry. As he would have been. He couldn't really blame him for the reaction. He looked to the side a bit and caught the detective's eye. He shook his head slightly, impressed at how prepared she was to attack the much larger demon. He turned back to the demon in his face. "I'll find out."

Omic turned to glare at his leader. "No, I'm going to find out who did this. And I'm going to rip his spine out!"

Xander turned to Jurgen. He said in a calm voice, "get him off me."

Jurgen walked up and laid a hand on the larger demon's back. He whispered, strength obvious in his tone though, "let him go, Omic."

The M'Fashnik growled slightly, but let the human go. He watched as Xander straightened himself up, coughing once.

"This is you're, whatever you've got." Xander looked the demon in the eyes, not reacting to the less than subtle threat. The demon really didn't like upworlders, especially if they made a name at taking out those of his kind. "I get that. But, I can't have you and yours making trouble up top. I'll get this guy. You can count on that."

"No," Jurgen broke in, he looked at his people. "Not this time. Omic is right. This has affected the community. And it is by our own laws that this must be settled. You will find the people responsible. You will find them and you will bring them here for our judgment."

Xander wasn't pleased at that, but he couldn't not agree to it. Not if he didn't want things getting out of hand. He spared a look at Kate, but she wasn't reacting. Good thing too. He nodded. "Tell me what's happened. All of it."

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He climbed up out of the open manhole. Xander stood at the entrance and helped Kate out of it. Jurgen climbed out as well, somewhat unsteady without a ceiling over his head.

Xander watched as the leader of the Underground looked around at the alleyway. Slightly in awe. It was a long time since the man had come up top.

"You should have come to me earlier," Xander said. He breathed in deep, the air wasn't the cleanest, but better than down below. "You could have gotten word to me."

Jurgen chuckled. With his damaged throat muscles, it came out mangled. "Ask you for help? You forget yourself. We aren't your children that need to run to mommy and daddy when we run into problems. We can take care of ourselves. And, we don't need the cops."

The leader took a hard look at the woman that Xander had brought along. He hadn't had much time above ground, but he knew the sentinels of the city when he saw them.

Kate held the gaze strongly. She understood where he was coming from. But, just like him, she could not allow such things to occur in her city either. While she had let Xander stay in the lead down below, she would play a part in what was to come. And as for punishment, that was one bridge they would cross when they come to it.

"And, I seem to remember that the threats you've helped stopped, have come from up here," Jurgen continued. It wasn't quite a criticism, but it was obvious that he placed the blame for many of the conflicts that they had faced at the feet of the people above.

"Maybe so," Xander couldn't help but agree. Sad to say. "But, if you're that strong about closing yourself off, then I better not see you send out hunters out onto the streets. You declare war up top, and I'll come down on you. You don't want that."

Jurgen nodded. It was rather odd. While Xander was telling the truth, and it wasn't just posturing, it was also ritual. The give and take of threats and promises that had to be made. As if by rote. Such was the way of the world. "Then you best hurry. Because I don't know how long I can hold them back if they decide to act unilaterally. Especially if there are any more deaths in the community. We took the deaths of Velasko and Juarez hard. Betty especially, was a woman of peace. She had never hurt anybody and her loss is felt by all. The anger will build and erupt if something isn't done soon."

"Keep your people out of the tunnels and off the streets as much as you can. All of them, for as long as you can." Xander said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his billfold. He pulled out five hundred dollars and gave it Jurgen. "Section A, keep clear."

The older man looked at the man. "What's this for now?"

"Send one. Human, every so often up top for food. It'll supplement the fields you'll lose access to in the meantime," Xander explained. He probably shouldn't have given so much, but as long as he didn't need to bribe that many people, the budget would cover it.

Jurgen reached out and took the money, shoving it into his pants pocket. They had converted some of the empty tunnels into fields to grow an assortment of food stuffs. All more than ordinary and all didn't need much light. It was one of the things that allowed the City to survive. "This won't last long. You know as well as I do that we need Section A. This won't help for more than maybe a week."

"Then I have a week," Xander stated.

"Thanks." Jurgen made for the hole in the ground, but hesitated. He turned back around. "You should talk to Gredanko. He probably has something if this has been going on for as long as I think. Can one of your people get you an invite?"

"Really hoping it doesn't come to that," Xander replied. He'd never met the man, if you could call Gredanko a man, but had certainly heard of him. And that, that, was really quite enough for him. "But, I'm sure I can come up with something if I need to."

"If anyone knows anything about what's going on, it'll be him. He has his fingers in everything, especially when it involves the world above and death," Jurgen persuaded, an edge on his low voice. He didn't have any particular like for his upworld counterpart, especially after they had less than pleasant interactions concerning the underground, but he had to give the other man the respect he was due. As tightly as he ran his own people, Anton Gredanko ran his own people just as tightly. With the proverbial, and sometimes rather literal, iron fist.

"You sure this isn't just a way to get rid of me?" Xander smirked, not feeling it though. There was a reason why he hadn't gone to the man last time he had come into town. Especially once the Voice had gotten involved. Wouldn't have looked good if he had gone to Gredanko without the Voice's express permission. Of course, given the less than global or even city-wide scale of this situation, it was unlikely the Voice of the City would be getting involved. Not without a hefty price. "You're right though. If it comes to it, you're right. I may have to speak to him."

"Then get to it." Jurgen climbed down into the tunnels. "You only have a week."

Xander waited until he had gone then used the manhole hook to replace the cover. He picked up the traffic pylon and headed towards the mouth of the alley towards the car.

"Gredanko," Kate said, crossing her arms. She followed after him. "Anton Gredanko."

"I see you've heard of him." Xander said. He turned around.

"The reported head of the Russian Mob in New York. Said to have killed most of his rivals with a sledge hammer. But first, he went after their families." Kate nearly exclaimed. "Yeah, I've heard of him."

"Yeah, well, he does more than that. Some says he's a werewolf and ate them too. I don't know, it's just a rumor." Xander replied, a bit flippantly. He walked to the car. "Let's just say that, one of the reasons that there are usually so few demon attacks, organized one at least, in New York is because of his, influence. He keeps the peace, and keeps things to, just the low level of the renegades and loners."

Xander dug his keys out of his pocket and popped the hood of his car, leaving Kate to wait by her door. He placed his bag inside, along with the other tools. He closed the trunk and walked to the front, unlocking the doors with the remote. He looked across the roof of the car at her before they got in. He wondered if she was an optimist. That must be pleasant for her. "What did you expect? The good guys running the show?"

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Updated grammar 1/10/08 - RudyHenkel


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter 2: Fresh Kills**

Xander leaned back in his office chair and spun it around to face his team. They were all spaced out in the hotel room, their various tools spread out in front of them. He didn't look at any of them in particular, but instead looked up at the pale gold colored ceiling. He wasn't sure if it looked gaudy or tasteful.

"Alright," Xander said at last. They had stopped the work from the previous night for some rest, wanting to take things up with fresh eyes. The current operation was more an exercise of the mind than anything else. And had to be treated that way. Besides, Kate had to check in at work. "What do we got?"

"It's not the Council," Vi responded from her seat on one of the large couches in the well-furnished room. It was the main room of the large hotel suite. One of the perks at needing so many beds close together. Much better than renting out a bunch of smaller rooms. "None of their slayers are in New York. And, they haven't been here for quite a while."

"And, none of the locals I've talked to have mentioned any independents around town." Cindy looked up from her laptop. She was still tired. She'd spent all of the night and early morning from the time they had broke up running up and down New York City to check up on the people that didn't like to use phones. "It'll take some time to hit all the people that might know, but I've hit up the major ones. No dice so far. And, none of the local hunters would mess with the Underground either. It's someone new. Someone that can get around without anyone noticing. And, isn't particularly interested in making a name. At least, not yet."

"That's pretty much what I have as well," Paul added from his seat next to Jack in the small kitchenette of the hotel suite. "None of our allies, and none of the operatives we have are behind this."

"You sure?" Xander asked, remembering the history of the Church. And how, zealous, they could be at times. And, that was only their public actions concerning humans. The fight they've been involved in for thousands of years was something else entirely. "I know there have been problems with some of your operatives in the past."

Paul shook his head. It was a bitter pill, but a valid criticism. There were things in the past of the Church, and some things ongoing, that he could hardly stomach. And, even his relatively high position did not give him the authority to make the changes he would have liked. "You know things are different now. Besides, there's no one unaccounted for."

Xander shrugged. "If you say so."

"Pax is going to want answers," Cindy interjected. She stood up and stretched her arms behind her. "And, his kin isn't going to stand around doing nothing for long."

"Can you set up a meet?" Xander asked. "If these weren't random kills, then it may be linked to something he was doing. If he was more than just an ideological follower, then Frankal may have been on something big that somebody may not have wanted carried out."

He wondered if that was the case. Though, it either meant that the demon hadn't told his kin. Or if Omic was holding out on him. Both seemed equally plausible.

"It's a thought," Cindy replied. "I'll see what I can do."

"In the meantime?" Curtis asked, as a knock was heard emanating from the door.

Xander got up and started towards the front door of the hotel room. He spoke over his shoulder, "I want you to work with Detective Ruffalo. Start going through the tapes."

Xander reached the door and opened it. It was Kate. He looked at her, nodding his head in greeting. He got see some slight bags under her eyes. They'd get darker before this was up. He had no doubt about that. The man turned around and walked back into the room. He pointed in the general direction of the kitchenette. "There should be some bagels and donuts left. And. whatever the coffee mutated into."

Xander sat back down in his seat. He looked at Curtis again. "I figure you've probably got the most experience out of all of us at that. See what you can see. Anything suspicious."

"Any ideas what?" Curtis glanced at the detective who was now sitting somewhat uncomfortably next to Jack.

"Not a clue. But, I figure if nobody saw anything, the place might have been scoped out beforehand." Xander replied. "Check repeats. It's about all we got to go on right now."

Curtis shook his head. They were going on pretty much nothing, and a long number of years in investigation told him how much that would get them. Still, cases had broken on less. And, miracles did happen. Especially in this line of work. "I can match it against witness reports once they're done. But, it's going to take time."

"So what are you going to do?" Vi asked.

"I don't know. Not much for me to do. Unfortunately, I'm probably going to have to drop names to get anything." Xander clenched his jaw. He really didn't want to do that here. Especially with that reporter checking things out. He had already found more than most had about what happened in Arizona. And, it wasn't unreasonable to imagine the papers being drawn up for something untoward to happen to him and his young protégé. He may have to pay them a visit while he was in the city. The government agent wasn't exactly sure what he would do if it came down to it though. Unsettling for only a moment. He was surprisingly unsurprised at that.

"You going to see Gredanko?" Cindy chuckled dryly. She knew the name even better than Xander. The young witch had never crossed paths with him either, but anyone that stayed in the game that long and moved around as much as she had would have learned it. And, learned to stay as far away as possible. "Think it's worth the risk?"

"Only if you don't get me something to go on before then. Six degrees on this then. Friend of a friend. I don't care if you have to go Kevin Bacon on this, we need a contact." Xander said. He thought about it. "Okay, Curtis, see what you can do about getting Jack and Paul to be able to review the tapes. Also, I want you to get the inbound flights for the last two weeks to New York. Probably nothing, but there could be something suspicious. Run against the watch list, our watch list too. We could get lucky. Shoot it back home if you need to, but let's see if we can't start eliminating at least some of the possibilities."

Xander turned towards the detective and grinned. "That's pretty much all I got. Anything you want to suggest?"

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"Wow. So this is a genuine cop car." Xander looked at the ceiling of the old model Ford that he was ridding shotgun in. Appropriately, he still had the one from the previous night in his bag. It had been a couple hours of running down leads in the few places he knew. And the respectable number of establishments that catered to the different that she knew. All useless. He felt somewhat annoyed at the unknown subjects that he was tasked to find. Of course it was mixed with respect. The enemy, whomever it was, had a way of blending in that even he couldn't accomplish. "I'm impressed."

"Don't knock the car," Kate said, as she pulled up to a red light. It had been her father's. She had taken it with her when she had left for New York. "So where to?"

Xander's phone rang before he could answer. He put a finger up and answered the cell. There was no need to speak, only listen. "Okay. He wants to meet me? That me. And, he learned this how? The Underground wouldn't talk. Yeah, it's already out then. Check up on if anybody's looking for me then also. If you can. Okay, where?"

Xander took the phone away from his ear to give driving directions the NYPD detective. He put the phone back as soon as he was done. "Now, who talked? Really. Could be any of a hundred people. Okay, New York, hell of a town. Bye."

He shut the phone down and put it back in his pocket.

"We need to be there in there in about an hour. Staten Island." Xander looked out the window as the car weaved through the traffic. "So Bullitt, I guess the Verrazano Narrows Bridge?"

Kate nodded like someone approaching a local. She gunned the engine again, taking a corner hard.

They drove in relative silence for a few blocks, on the way to a highway that would lead them towards the bridge that would take them across the Narrows.

"So how's this work?" Kate asked.

"What do you mean?" Xander replied, still looking out the window.

"The work you do?" Kate responded. "You were pretty quick getting here. Pretty flexible bosses?"

"Something like that," Xander replied non-committaly. "I have flexibility. Though 90 of the time I'm training. Most of the rest of the time, they farm me out wherever they think I'm useful. Or if they just want to throw their weight around. I get to take special projects as they come in. They have to be cleared and approved, of course. So you should be thankful, you're officially important to the Department of Homeland Security."

"Right," Kate said, wryly. She looked in the rear view mirror. "How about you?"

Vi thought about her answer. She knew the limits of what she was allowed to say, even to her, but wasn't sure she wanted to say even that much. "Slayer. Someone has to keep him in line."

The detective knew that was about all she would get from the other woman. "And the others?"

Xander answered that one. "You'll have to ask them."

"I recognize him you know," Kate responded after a moment.

"You saying that as a cop?" Xander didn't bother looking at her. Though he was slightly surprised that the detective was able to recognize the man in question on sight. Her background, especially lineage, did indicate where the knowledge could have come from. "Or, you know."

"Does it matter?" Kate asked.

"Just wondering if it's going to be a problem." Xander glanced at her. "There's an arrangement. As long as he doesn't do anything too outlandish, he's not going to get pinched. You willing to let it go?"

Kate thought about it. "For now."

Kate drove on in silence, glad that the traffic wasn't too bad. She glanced at the man next to her for a moment. She hadn't known Angel for that long. And, she had only a cursory familiarity with some of the members of his group. At least, familiarity not born of rap sheets. In the short references that Xander had made, it was clear that he had a much longer, or at least more intense relationship with the unique vampire than she had. "How did you know him?"

"Jack?" Xander asked, feeling that that wasn't where she was going with thing. He looked at her. "Aw, Angel."

Xander shook his head as he continued to look at the driver. He could feel his girlfriend's gaze on the back of his head. He sniffed before he spoke, "doesn't matter."

"Oh?" Kate remarked. "You clearly have some feelings about the subject."

Xander repressed the urge to chuckle. "It's highly unlikely that you'll see him again, and anything I have to say is probably not going to be anything you'd want to hear anyway. Better to let it drop. So how did you meet him?"

"He tried to pick me up in a bar." Kate remarked lightly, rather different from her usual stance.

"Really?" Xander broke a smile. "As entertaining as the thought of him bar-hopping for hookups is, I find it hard to believe."

"There was a, a demon, that was using local nightclubs as a hunting ground in LA," Kate explained. "We sort of ran into each other during the case."

"I suppose that sounds more his speed." Xander hadn't been interested in Angel's activities once the vampire had left Sunnydale. He had still learned some things, since Angel did pop by a few times and Buffy had visited LA. And, Faith had made some remarks after she had come back to Sunnydale. It seemed the broody vampire had found some type of calling in his life and had made a real effort to do the right thing. Good for him.

Of course, he had rather thrown it all away for a foolish egotistical last stand. Deus ex machinas didn't exactly grow on trees, so hopefully the vampire with a soul had learned from bringing the storm down on top of him. The deaths of two of his people should be enough to get him to learn some humility. At least it should.

Kate kept driving, but she didn't want to let him off that easily. She glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing the eyes of the slayer in the back seat staring back at her. The detective couldn't help but try to figure out what the look meant. A warning, though not about the obvious. "What do you mean I won't see him again?"

She wasn't exactly sure why she had asked that. Though a part of her never wanted to see the vampire again, there was a small part of her that did. If only to tie up the loose ends.

"Where he is right now, I doubt he's thinking about you much." Xander frowned at the way he had phrased that. It was unduly harsh and not at all what he had intended. Different than how he usually said things. He looked out the window. "Well, let's just say he's keeping busy in the same type of work we're on."

"But, you know where he is." Kate stated. She didn't even need to ask.

"What do you think I am?" Xander turned his gaze to look at the profile of her head. "Of course I do."

Xander turned back around. It was clear he wouldn't give up the location.

"What do you know about him?" Kate kept pressing.

"I know that he has a way of attracting women that stay attracted to him," Xander remarked. More dispassionately than he would have thought. He was glad of that. "Despite all sorts of unpleasantness."

"Meaning?" Kate asked.

"Well, he bled you. Yet, you still seem rather concerned." Xander looked out the window at the bridge they were fast approaching. The day was turning out to be pretty clear. Still cold though. The view of the Hudson River was pretty nice. If he was there on vacation. "But, I wouldn't worry about it. He's doing good enough all things considered. I'm sure he'd feel good about knowing your concerns, but honestly, I wouldn't give it much thought. It's not like his past is going to be much use for your right now. And that's pretty much what me and him have of relevance."

Kate tried to suppress her look of surprise. "How…how did you know?"

Xander shrugged, as the slowed to approach the toll booths. "I can read between the lines of your police report. And, you still got a scar."

"He-" Kate started to say.

"I'm sure there was some reason for it." Xander reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. He withdrew a ten-dollar bill and passed it to Kate. "Get a receipt."

The detective waited until they had passed through the tolls and were driving along the westbound lanes of the bridge. She passed him the change and the asked for receipt. "You always this evasive?"

"Only when I don't want to talk about myself." Xander shoved both pieces into one of his pockets. It was somewhat annoying, but it was the price of getting reimbursed for petty expenses on the job.

Xander felt a light kick to the back of his seat.

He sighed, and rolled his eye. "Okay, tell me what you want to know."

"What do you have against him?" Kate asked. They had had their problems, but Angel had proved to be an ally. And she wanted to defend him, even though there were things she didn't know about him.

"He's a vampire. Soul or no, he's got the instincts of one and they drive his actions." Xander thought about what he had just said. There were much worse things he could have said. Some worse for a cop than others, but all truthful. "Even when they shouldn't. Anything more than that, well, it wouldn't do you any good."

It wasn't so much that he was a vampire, since there were those without souls that he let live. Of course, they were not so much involved in being evil, but simply more animalistic and less "civilized." They also knew that it was in their best interest not to start feeding on people. And, unlike some, could actually be trusted to stick to it.

"What do you mean?" Kate asked.

Xander thought about how he would answer. "You ever see Dracula 2000?"

Kate glanced at him quizzically. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Movie wasn't that great, though the whole Dracula origin story was an interesting twist. Even though it was wrong," Xander remarked, on a tangent. "Forget it, it's not important."

"Xander…" Kate said, irritated.

"Whacky fun time blanket or no, it just brought out what was in him. Blood could have come from somewhere else. That's about all you need to know." Xander turned to look at the detective and caught her eye. "Drop it. It doesn't do anyone any good to talk about this. Playtime's over, I'm done with this. You have good memories of Angel, fine. Keep that, cause it's a rare enough thing I imagine. And you know what? I can even respect that he's made something of himself. But, the past is the past, and you really don't want to know anymore than you already obviously do. And if the in the future you run across him and really want to know, then give me a call. But, I don't want to make this working relationship more difficult cause we have this odd triangle thing with Angel."

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It hadn't taken much effort to get in to the landfill. More difficult was trying to find the person that they were supposed to be meeting. Even though it had closed down in 2001, and conversion had started to take place, there was still a lot of refuse there. Of course, that included that which had been laid to rest there after the waste lot had officially closed.

Kate looked at the piles as she drove past them and slowed to a stop. She knew well where the source of much of the visible rubble had come from. Hard to forget. Impossible really, even if she hadn't had many connections in the city at the time.

Xander got out of his car and approached the man that was standing next to a mound of twisted metal and concrete rubble. They had parked a fair bit back and in the time it took to approach him, he could tell something about the person.

For one thing, he appeared human, though given his affiliation that was likely an illusion. How it was achieved was an open question. No visible displacement collar, but with the heavy jacket the small man was wearing, it wouldn't be visible. Still it could be a number of things, from innate shapeshifting ability to actual spellcasting.

What that also meant was that the apparent age of 60 or so of the contact could be fake as well. As well as the ethnicity. Xander couldn't exactly tell what it was exactly, but he looked rather American Indian.

The old man turned around to look at the trio of people approaching him. It was hardly a meeting that the man wanted to make. But, under the circumstances it had become necessary. At least they had been willing to meet him on his own territory. It was something at least.

"A mutual acquaintance mentioned that you might have some information for me," Xander spoke without greeting. "X marks the spot."

"Perhaps. Hell of a way to make a living though." The older man held out his hand; not so much a challenge, but when one had assimilated as he had, the niceties become habits. "You can call me, Running Bear."

Xander shook the offered hand, and stared at him quizzically. "Really?"

"No," the older man grinned. "My name's Gary."

"Right," Xander replied, offput by the reaction. Hardly what he would expect from someone that just learned that one of his own had gotten killed under less than determinable circumstances. "Well, I'm Xander. That's Kate and Vi."

False names would have been nice; especially this close to home. However, with the people they were talking to, lies wouldn't be appreciated. He watched as the two women both shook hands with the man. He noticed that Vi was looking around, watching their backs. Probably trying to find where the person that was observing them was hiding.

"That's not your real name though, is it," Gary stated. "Word gets around. Jack."

"Tell me about Frankal." Xander ignored the comment.

Gary shrugged. He scratched his weathered jaw with a strong hand. "I didn't know him that well personally. But, he was doing important work."

"Anything in particular?" Kate broke in, exercising her police skills. "Anything that would have caused someone to go after him? Or something in his past?"

Gary looked off to the side, across the dirt road towards another mound of trash and debris. He appeared to be listening, though they couldn't hear anything. He turned back to Xander and his people after a few moments. "After your rather public display last year, things have gotten a bit heated."

"And, what do you know about that?" Xander asked, not needing to clarify exactly what the event in question was.

Gary looked off to the side again. Then to the detective. He could easily peg her as a cop. The other female was a slayer. Xander, as he called himself, was something else entirely. Altogether too human, for whatever that meant. "What happened. At least enough to know what's going to happen now. You know, at the Congress."

"What's that?" Kate asked, not recognizing the usage. She also wondered what happened last year that she wasn't aware of.

"I'll tell you later," Xander interjected. "Now, like the lady asked, what was he working on?"

"Consolidation. He had ties to many people and demons in all sorts of places. Above and below," Gary explained. "What you did made some of us nervous. Public action like that. With those kinds of resources. It sends a message."

"Not the one that we wanted to send," Xander said, keeping emotion out of his tone of voice. "But, demons and all sorts are getting skittish is that it? Now everyone wants a piece of the pie at the Congress. Funny how I don't see us humans getting an invite. Nice little exclusive club you've got going on up there."

"Just about," Gary shrugged again. "I don't necessarily agree with it though. We aren't nearly on the level of power as who will be at that meeting. I don't think it's going to get us what we want. Not without some type of extreme concession. But, people in the community are worried about the measures you take."

"If we wanted you extinct, you'd be halfway there by now. Surely you know that." Xander stated.

"Perhaps." Gary met him halfway. "Not all of us see it that way."

"So who are you?" Kate asked. Xander had explained the basic structure and purpose of the organization that the victim had been a member of.

The Pax was a group of demons and other assorted supernatural beings dedicated to living in harmony with humans. In public. That was the end goal for them all anyway. The means was something more individualistic. Which meant that they weren't all pacifists.

"Just a warden," Gary said, not explaining what it meant. He looked over to his side again. Listening to unspoken words, then shrugged.

Xander tightened up slightly, ready for action. He had made sure that his coat was unbuttoned when he had gotten out of the vehicle. It meant that he was cold. But, it also meant that he would have easier access to his weapons. An equal tradeoff. "Who's your friend?"

A form suddenly appeared into vision next to the old man. It was a woman, somewhere between Vi and Kate in age. She was wearing a simple white dress that accentuated her curves, but didn't seem to be cold.

She looked rather amused. Her lips curled in a slight smiled. The woman shook her head slightly, long wavy hair moving back in forth. To the less than experienced she would have appeared an angel, or a succubus. In truth, she would be just about as dangerous. The woman looked at the man and women in front of her. She focused on the man. He didn't look all that different than she had seen him last. Physically at least. Interestingly enough, there was less conflict in his aura. Less swirls of darkness and light mixing together. Contradictorily, there was a much deeper shade of death. Like he had killed more, and felt less guilty about it.

The woman wasn't sure if she approved of that or not. "It's been a long time."

Xander shrugged. "I suppose, Eirene. Still, you could have called. I suppose it's good to see you though. Even with circumstances being as they are."

Eirene smiled at that. They had had their share of disagreements in South America. Especially when it came to a particular young and powerful witch. Still, it was hard to stay angry at the young man.

She took a step forward and drew a finger under Xander's jaw. It didn't have the usual effect, though given who it was, she wasn't surprised. Still, one had to keep up appearances. "Yes."

Vi hadn't heard the woman approach. She had sensed some type of presence, but had been unable to pinpoint it. She hadn't liked it. She liked the show of familiarity even less. Though she really needn't had bothered. He may have been a kid, but he wasn't one anymore. He wasn't one to stray.

"So this is about the Dark Congress then." Xander ignored the touch. Its intent wasn't sexual. Not on her part at least. And, he wouldn't let himself be distracted by it. As for the subject, it was safe enough to talk about it with some familiarity. The real danger was if he alluded to his own attempted involvement in the meeting that was a half year or so away. "And, you're helping."

"We're helping you too, remember?" Eirene spoke, a slight accent in her voice pegged her origins somewhere south of the border in the lower of the Americas.

"Not that much. Just that bit of extra juice last year." Xander turned to Gary. "I suppose that's why he knows about it."

The woman simply smirked at that, neither confirming nor denying the truth.

Xander knew that there would be some secrets kept, the important ones anyway, but the group of witches in South America could only be trusted part of the way. At this point, their perspectives were so vastly different from even his own that he couldn't rely on them to have the best interests of the people he cared about in mind. They were good enough for magical backup in a fight, if they chose to fight, and for intelligence if they chose to share it, but that was about it. And they always had their own plans. He had only slightly exaggerated the connection the first time he had told the Council so very long ago.

Kate looked back and forth between them. She knew she was once again out of her depth. She did study the new faces though. Memorizing every detail so that she would be able to come up with their appearances if the need came up. It was the least she could do in her capacity.

"So, if you're all involved, perhaps you could help with why we came out here?" Kate broke in, wanting to get back on the subject. At least, to the subject that she knew about, and was actually concerned about.

"The majority of the deaths that we have learned of have had a few things in common," Gary said. "Frankal and the ones in the Underground were linked to larger organizations. Frankal with actual political movement. That would could be of concern to all sorts of people. Individuals. Groups. Countries."

"There's more," Eirene added. "The targets have not all been what you would consider the innocent. But, all linked to power. This was not accidental."

"Meaning?" Kate said.

Eirene looked towards the detective. "Meaning that the prince of the city is concerned. And will likely take action to get to the bottom of this, especially now that his own people are involved. As it is, he may have more information than we do about the perpetrators of these latest deaths."

Kate knew whom she was likely referring too. And, an agitated mob boss would be not be something to look forward to.

"Do you have anything for me?" Xander asked. He only let some of the annoyance he felt at having to have come out all the way to Staten Island filter into his voice. It was a waste of time that could have easily been handled on the phone.

Nobody said anything. Silence filled the air. If it had been summer, bird cries would have filled the space. Herons most likely. The estuary wasn't too far away from their present location. At least there were no mosquitoes in the marsh given the season. A small blessing.

"I had to see you for myself, Jack," Eirene spoke again at last. "It was done at my request."

"To see what now?" Xander asked, though he had a suspicion that he knew what. Her oddly clear blue eyes saw more than the surface. That much he knew.

Eirene ignored the question.

"There may have been witnesses to one of the deaths. By all appearances, a low rent crime lord of a demon. Word has it he's gone to ground," Gary said, drawing attention away from the witch. "Still in the city of course. Gredanko is currently looking for him with his own sources. But, they have limitations as you might imagine."

Xander nodded. Even though nothing stuck to the man, having his name out meant that most people would try to keep from talking. The usual threats would work. But, only after Gredanko's thugs managed to locate them with everyone running avoidance. So he still had some time. "Let me guess, you have a name?"

"Maugham," Gary replied.

"You have a species?" Xander didn't recognize the name. Of course, there was little possibility that he would have. Cindy or Paul might have something more, but it would be better to get as many concrete details hammered down as possible.

Gary hesitated for less than a moment. Still it was something that didn't escape attention.

"Out with it, man." Xander pressed.

"Strom," Gary replied.

"And the reason you had some second thoughts about giving up that piece of information?" Kate asked, also having picked up on it. "You know where he is."

"No," Gary denied.

Kate shook her head. "Yes you do."

"He's hiding out at an apartment," Gary said quickly.

"And?" Kate took a step closer, crowding the old man. Any sentiment at not trying to intimidate the man left as soon as it was clear that he was holding something back.

"My brother owns the apartment building." Gary glanced over at Xander. "I don't want anything to happen there. I know your reputation. I don't want the building burned down."

"Okay," Xander nodded. "Fair enough. I go in as light as I can, and in return, nobody's tipped off."

Gary gave him the address. It wasn't that impressive of an address. Going in light would be a relative term given that area of town.

Xander turned to leave, but stopped. He nodded towards Kate. "Gary, if nobody's there, and I have to come back here? I sic her on you."

He kept walking; Kate and Vi following him back to the car.

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"Okay. Strom demon." Cindy turned the tablet PC around so that the gathered group could get a look at the species. "This is the male. Females look, well just about the same."

The demon in the picture had grayish green mottled skin with an exaggerated skull structure. Compared to a human at least. Its head rose to a rather conical shape with large bumps on top. Large ears on the sides and high and pronounced cheekbones. A flat nose with large nostrils set widely apart and a bony chin completed the picture of ugliness. Again, compared to a human. To its own species it may very well have been quite the looker.

"Any special attributes we need to be aware of?" Paul said, as he looked at his printout. It was a dossier on the species, but only a hasty download off their own database cribbed from books and other sources. He'd rather have it from her.

"They have mild regenerative abilities," Cindy replied. "Well, mild in terms of length of time it takes. They'll heal from nearly anything, but it'll take a lot of time if they take significant damage."

"Sure kill?" Jack asked.

"You'll need to completely sever the spinal column between the brain and the rest of the body." Cindy looked at her notes, reviewing it for any other pertinent information. "Even a head shot isn't a guarantee. You need to put this guy down, you'll have to take his head. No specials either so it shouldn't be that difficult."

"Anything else we need to be aware of?" Xander asked, typing on his computer.

"Physiologically speaking not really. He's type one all the way down on anything else. No offensive special abilities. Typical loads are sufficient. At least to keep in him in line," Cindy said. It meant that the demon was roughly baseline human in combat attributes. No super speed or agility. No super strength either. Hand to hand, he'd go down as easy as any human. Training was another manner, but the biology of it was certain at least. "On this one in particular, my sources say he runs with a group of vampires. Muscle. If he's gone to ground, then he's got them with him. He's not going to be easy to talk to. And, I highly doubt that even your charm is going to get him to open the door for you."

Xander glanced over his work and then hit print. The attached portable printer silently printed out the page. He bent over and pulled it from the floor where it sat next to his feet. He placed it on the coffee table before him.

Xander closed his eye and thought about it. He opened them after a few moments. "Okay. I go in with Paul and Vi. Jack covers Cindy on the outside. We take out the vampires if needed, and bring Maugham out for interrogation."

"You really thinks he knows something?" Kate asked, as Xander sketched out a quick plan.

"He ran." Xander looked at the police detective. "I think that means he's scared. Which usually means he knows something dangerous. Cindy, see if you can't get someone to rustle us up the blueprints to the building."

"And, where will I be in this?" Kate asked.

Xander thought about it. They were down Curtis as it was. He was still reviewing the tapes and with Paul and Jack on this, he could do with the help. He looked her up and down as she sat in one of the single chairs in the main room of the suite. "When's the last time you've had to kick down doors?"

"I can hold my own." Kate met his gaze, holding it.

"Okay." Xander nodded. "You're in. You come in last, act as rear guard. Don't mess with the flow. Hmm. You know all this time, you sure you're cleared on your day job? We don't want your bosses asking questions."

"Gordon's covering me. I'm free till tonight." Kate said. As a detective, she didn't have to account for every hour. But, she couldn't just follow them around all day. She still had her share of open cases.

"Let's get situated on weapons. I want to do this quickly." Xander grabbed a pen and thought for a moment, before signing the paper. He folded it and left it on the table as he stood up. "Just in case he gets too antsy and rabbits."

"What's that?" Kate asked as she stood up as well. She pointed towards the piece of paper on the coffee table.

"Warrant." Xander grinned. "There are laws you know."


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter 3: HBT**

Xander strapped the belt to his waist. It was heavy, but months of practice had eliminated its awkwardness. He reached down onto the bed and opened the large metal case that rested on it. Just some of the equipment that the team had brought along. Also, one of the reasons why they couldn't have housekeeping clean the rooms. Of course, Vi couldn't express her distaste at how messy he left it in. Since they were officially on the job, he had had her bunk with Cindy. Much to their own mutual dislike, but it would make things easier, and keep his focus clear.

"Hey, what sidearm are you using?" Xander asked, over his shoulder. He started taking out some of the smaller boxes of ammunition, accessing some of the larger equipment attached inside.

Kate walked over and looked at what Xander was doing. "Glock 19. Why?"

Xander pulled out two boxes of bullets and handed them to her. "First box. Nine milli frangibles. Suspended wood in a light jacket. Splinters on contact so you only need to hit a vampire in the chest. Second box. Low load incendiaries. Long burn. Really young vampires are extremely flammable, and even the older ones can't stand constant contact. Even tagging one in a limb will kill it if it's a good shot, or if it's a newbie. That'll be for backups though. We don't want to start any fires. And, the frangibles shouldn't penetrate any of the walls. At least, if matches the blueprints."

"These really work?" Kate put one of the boxes down and opened the other one. She pulled out one of the bullets and held it out in front of her, examining it.

"Yes. They fire light though. Careful with the aim." Xander took out a longer metal box and opened it up. He pulled out some small metal tubes that had been secured inside with packing foam. They were roughly the length of toilet paper tubes, but half the diameter. He slipped a few into some loops on his belt, making sure that the safeties were on. He'd deploy the extendable stakes when they got on site. "It would be better to have you test them, but I don't think we can just drive by a gun range right now. Oh, and I don't have any mags for your gun. Sorry."

Kate picked up the other box and walked over to a desk that was set against the wall in front of a mirror. She pulled out her own weapon and ejected the magazine. She pulled out the spares she had as well. Taking out the bullets, she replaced them with the new rounds. She filled the empty space in the box with her old rounds.

As she was working, the cop looked in the mirror at what Xander was doing. "You have anything for a .38?"

Xander dug around in his case and pulled out another box . He turned and tossed it to her. He hadn't left her anything the first time they had met. He hadn't trusted her that much. But, after checking out her record and the stuff left out, he knew that she could be relied upon to be discrete. "This stuff isn't supposed to get out much. Mass amounts of specialized ammunition and what have you points to too much of an organized force. But, you do good today, and I'll see about setting you up with your own gear."

Kate nodded and lifted her leg, resting it on the chair in front of the desk. She removed a small revolver from a holster attached to her right ankle and swung the cylinder out.

"I don't think you'll need to do much here. Unless things go seriously wrong, we should be in and out quick." Xander reached down and picked up his shoulder bag. He placed it on the bed and opened it up. Xander pulled out his shotgun and broke open the action. He pulled out the two 12 gauge shells and placed them on the bed. "You know the plan right?"

Besides the lack of tactical experience, there was another reason that Xander didn't want Kate to actually need to engage the enemy. If she had to fire her weapons and some of the shell casings were not recovered, it could eventually be tracked back to her official guns. And that would result in all sorts of questions that neither of them would like.

"Yes," Kate replied as she replaced her weapon in its holster. She watched through the mirror as Xander took out two shells with black hulls and slipped them into the breech. He snapped it shut. "What's that?"

Xander raised the cut down shotgun. "This? Wrist-breaker, hurts like a son of a bitch. But, it gets the job done."

"What's it loaded with?" Kate asked.

Xander slipped the gun into his bag and started pulling out his other equipment from the large box. Some he attached to various points on his body armor or belt. Other material he put into his bag. "Dragon's breath."

"Where did you get all this stuff from?" The police detective asked. It was a pretty big step up from the stakes she had seen Angel use.

"Skunk works. Bunch of geeks, and the most anti-social guys you ever met. But, they know stuff." Xander shrugged, though he couldn't criticize them too much. He'd spent his share of time down there talking shop, and debating the finer points of the Godzilla ouvre. "Your tax dollars at work. Five weeks of vacation a year, full medical and dental, and millions in new weapons tech for a guy that used to dig ditches. Don't you just love America?"

"So that story…" Kate started, the wheels grinding. She had started to hear stuff that led her to think that elements of the supernatural were starting bleed over to the rest of the world.

"About that Ranger chalk displaying some freaky abilities when they got ambushed a few weeks ago in Ramadi?" Xander finished. He'd seen the news stories on the television. Freak incident they called it. Adrenaline overload. Course, the actual reports that had been classified all the way up said different.

Kate nodded. "Yeah."

"I couldn't say." Xander replied, he bent down to his work again. "Feats of extreme strength aren't exactly unheard of. Even for us lowly mortals. The moms ripping off car doors. Who knows what happened. Heck, not all demons are the bad guys, and they can be just as patriotic as the next knuckle dragger."

"You really burn a building down?" Kate asked. She knew what type of shell that Xander had just loaded. Though it wasn't used in a law enforcement capacity. Even criminals didn't seem to utilize them. What she didn't know was that, though apparently tactically useless, it was only because most people didn't know why it was originally designed for.

While such a load expels a large burst of flame, the short duration meant that it didn't function that well as a makeshift flame thrower. It also tended to highlight the position of the shooter. However, as the designer intended, that short duration made short work of any vampire that happened to be in the way of the burning zirconium compound.

Xander finished clipping a few modified flashbang and gas grenades to the side of the inside of his bag and turned around. "That wasn't my fault. The building was so not up to code. And, it had faulty wiring. Really, it should have been condemned anyway. I was doing the owner a favor really. By, uh, you know, burning it down. To the foundation."

Kate looked at him through the mirror and grinned.

He smiled back. Of course, the real truth was that he hadn't really cared at the time when he set the explosives off. There hadn't been anybody inside that he would have considered all that deserving of life, and it was a lot easier than actually fighting his way up. A lot safer for him to boot. She wouldn't have liked that if he had given that as the explanation though. She didn't seem to be one that would cut such corners.

Xander picked up his pea coat and put it on. It would hide the gear strapped to his body during the short time walking out on the street, and would keep him warmer than a trench coat would. Moreso, the dark blue coat would render him relatively invisible on the cold streets of New York.

"You ready?" Xander asked, as he slung his shoulder bag, making sure that nothing inside shifted out of place.

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The hallway of the building was rather cold, likely due to a combination of cheap insulation and lack of central heating for the common areas. Despite that, Xander could feel a bit of sweat make its way down his neck to be absorbed by the collar of his shirt. The mask he had on made him sound a bit like Darth Vader. In a different time he would have been amused by that. Not now though.

He raised his MP5 a fraction into the ready position as the fuse on the breaching explosive burned its way up toward the small charge. The gas grenade in his left hand had already had its been pulled and was primed to be used.

It hadn't been his first choice. He would have preferred posing as cops and use the warrant he had created to fake his way in. However, all it had proven useful for was in clearing the rest of the inhabitants of the floor and the ones above and below out. And getting the owner out of their faces.

Some digging around had given them some information on their target and the crew that he ran with. Some turned hardcases. Not too smart, but fast with a trigger. Some of the few vampires that still used guns. Which left out the slow manner that was the standard methodology for SWAT teams and other law enforcement personnel. No shields and mirrors. No cameras. It would give them too much warning and they'd be facing down a hailstorm of bullets.

Which meant that they had to resort to a dynamic entry. Fast and hard. With all the risks involved.

Unfortunately.

Xander braced himself as the door blew forward. Before the sound had even died out he threw the grenade inside. It ignited on its second bounce, emitting its load of vaporized water. Holy water. Since vampires didn't actually breath, and only approximated it on occasion intentionally, it was more of an irritant than an effective method of destruction. It also had the benefit of being nearly invisible and harmless to everyone else.

Right after Xander had tossed the grenade in, Paul stepped through the now open doorway from the opposite site and looked for his first target. He scanned the apartment, knowing in his mind what he would find inside.

The man took his second step into the apartment, turning left as quickly as he could and moving up into the small kitchen. A vampire that was wiping its eyes to try to clear them from the water was his first target. He fired his semi-automatic shotgun into its chest. Hardwood pellets penetrated easily, and turned the vampire into dust. The warrior was precise with the imprecise weapon. He made sure not to hit the demon that was cowering on the floor, having dropped from his chair for the floor beneath the kitchen table.

Xander moved and walked forward clearing the family room. He shifted his aim in minute arcs, firing center mass into the four vampires that were trying to bring their weapons to bear from their positions on a threadbare couch. They had been watching television, their backs stupidly turned towards the door. The seconds that it had taken to turn around at the breach, combined with the distraction from the gas grenade was all the time he needed. The last of them hadn't even been able to turn around to face them.

Three round bursts of splintering wood made short work of the would-be defenders. Xander made sure that enough rounds were fired to put all of his targets were down. He heard Paul speak into his com link and waited for his turn. He spoke as soon as Paul had finished, his voice muffled, "clear right."

Vi came in last, bisecting the L shape that Paul and Xander were creating with their movements. She lay down covering fire with a submachine gun, dusting only one vampire that had managed to find cover and had been rising, attempting to bring his Uzi into position. Normally, Abby would have taken a more forward position during operations, but with the redheaded woman replacing the regular slayer, Vi had taken a less integrated stance since she hadn't practiced with the team that much.

If the vampires had been wearing vests, the wooden rounds would have been stopped. Too bad for them they hadn't been. Of course, if they had, it would have been detected and Xander would have switched to a different load. Such was the payoff of having more intelligence than the other side.

"Three V's coming out. Back way." Cindy declared over the com system.

He finished clearing the main room, and swung to his right, stopping. He knew from his internal count that his gun was empty. He ejected the magazine from his submachine gun. He saw the door to the bedroom begin to open slowly, before he had time to go for a fresh magazine. Without hesitating, Xander reached behind his back with his left hand to the long holster attached to the back of his armor and pulled out the shotgun.

Xander waited until the door had almost opened all the way and he saw the three vampires begin to appear, wanting to get into the fight.

The submachine gun wouldn't necessarily have taken them all. Even if he managed to hit one, the others might have gotten out of the funnel before he could hit them. Luckily for him, he had something else.

The shotgun shot out a large gout of flame which swept through the open doorway, bathing the vampires in a short burst of fire.

It only lasted but a second, but that was enough to ignite the vampires, burning them down to dust. Only a few small scorch marks along the wall and door revealed what had happened.

His wrist throbbed, but Xander ignored it as he replaced the shotgun back into its holster. He finished reloading the MP5 and raised it to the ready position. He moved forward to make a sweep of the back room to make sure it was clear. While he knew that Cindy's scans were better than most, they could still be fooled by talent. He had to be sure.

He knew that Paul had already secured their target and that Vi was covering him, so he concentrated on the bedroom.

He pulled a flashbang from his belt and took the pin out. He tossed it through the open door, angling it towards the part he couldn't see. It went off a couple of seconds later. Xander rushed in at that point, sweeping the room with his gun. No one else was inside.

Of course the fake sunlight in a can could have taken them out if there had been any, but again that would have only worked on the very young. On any others, it would have left them in extreme pain, as if they had been bathed in acidic fire. Worse than the gas grenade used earlier. Too bad that it tended to blow wide though. While not necessarily deadly, it could damage more than just vampires.

Xander walked back out a few seconds later and saw that Paul already had Maugham in handcuffs. The demon was relatively small compared to the man who had hold of him, but he was still fairly built. He looked like a fair representative of the species as demonstrated by Cindy's picture. He bent down to pick up the emptied gas grenade, making sure that it had cooled down enough to pick up. The shell casings would be left behind, but would be an empty lead for anybody that came looking. "Let's go."

The small team walked back out, passing the others who had taken position farther back in the hallway. They fell in to step behind the lead group. Xander stopped after a few steps to pick up his shoulder bag. He took out his shotgun and placed it into the bag. Then took off the balaclava too, shoving that in the front pocket. The well-armed man didn't bother with the submachine gun, letting it hang from its strap. He then knelt down and picked up his pea coat, putting it back on and slinging his bag over his shoulder. After he was finished he led the group towards the far end of the hallway, towards the stairwell down.

"Xander," Vi called out as she passed by the window at the foot of the hall. She had been the last one in the group, taking up the rear guard. She had glanced outside and happened to notice a car screech to a halt outside the front of the building. "We got company."

Xander moved back through the crowd and looked out the window. He took a careful look as the men in the nearly clichéd trenchcoats got out of the late model Cadillac and headed towards the door. He didn't need a great deal of imagination to know what they would likely be packing underneath the long coats. "Great. The Brighton Beach rejects. Faster than I thought."

"Vi? You got anything?" Xander asked, as he thought about their next move. The blueprints flashed through his mind as he thought of a way out. Unfortunately, the cheap design of the place meant that there were only two places to go. The bottom, right to the five men team that was coming up. And the top. Which meant the roof and the too distant gap to jump for all of them.

Idly, he thought that it was rather arrogant for them to all go up, and not leave a driver behind in the car.

Vi shook her head. "Too far."

"Cindy. Run a scan," Xander ordered. He turned around looked at the group. Maugham had been told to shut up and luckily was still obeying. Minor crime boss maybe, but more adept at leading from the rear it seemed. "Okay. Back to the room."

On the way back, he pointed at a door. The entrance to room 1408, and was roughly midway between Maugham's apartment and the stairwell down. "Jack. Open up this door. Cindy, stay with him."

Xander led the rest of his people back, knowing that he only had a couple of minutes before the gangsters would reach them. One benefit of the cheap design. The elevators didn't work anymore.

"Paul, let him go," Xander said, as they reached the main room. "Maugham, lift your right arm."

"What?" Maugham got out. He had expected someone to come eventually. The Strom demon had hoped it would be a way out, but at least they hadn't just killed him for what he had witnessed in that alleyway. It seemed like a lifetime ago rather than just last week.

"Lift up your arm." Xander took out his sidearm and pointed it at the demon's head. He stared at him with a blank expression. "Do it now. Or, I shoot you in the head. Anybody looking for you is going to find you and you ain't going to be able to do anything about it. Three seconds. Two."

Maugham reluctantly lifted his arm.

Without moving his gaze, Xander spoke, "Vi, cut it off."

In a lightening fast move Vi whipped out a short machete that had been strapped to her back. It cut clean through the bone of the demon's forearm, perhaps an inch away from the elbow. A spray of greenish blood spurt out towards the carpet of the apartment, staining it.

Maugham yelped in pain.

"Quit your whining," Xander said, as he dragged the demon around. The blood dripped everywhere, creating quite a mess. As well as creating signs of a struggle that hadn't really been there before, besides the blown in door. "It'll grow back."

"Fuck you." Maugham managed to get out, above the pain.

"Cup the stump. Make sure it doesn't bleed." Xander told the demon. "Paul, get him to Jack and wait there. I'll be out in a minute."

They left the room and Xander stayed behind as the rest went to room 1408. He noticed that Kate had been shocked, but hadn't said a word. She even left with the others as he had told them to. He replaced his weapon, and then bent down and picked up the severed arm, flicking more blood around. With a gloved hand he opened the freezer and put the arm in. By the time anybody found it, it would be frozen solid. Ice crystallization of the blood cells would rupture the cell membranes, and render the blood useless for tracking purposes.

Reaching into his bag, he pulled a small spray bottle of bleach and went around the room quickly spraying the blood splatters. The chemical interaction would do the same thing as the freezer.

Xander took a quick look around the room, then replaced the bottle. He walked towards the door, reaching into his bag again and pulling out a small roll of police tape. He draped a strip of it across the open doorway, ripping it off and securing it with some tape. Cheap cover, but even the merest assertion of authority could deter the determined. Or those hired more for their brawn than their brains.

Xander managed to make it into the other apartment as the group of men reached the top of the staircase that led to the floor they were on. The door closed quietly enough that it wasn't heard over the opening of the stairwell door. He turned to look at his team.

Maugham had a gag over his mouth, likely courtesy of Paul and his desire to make sure the demon stayed silent. The others had weapons out, ready to make a move if necessary.

He pulled a fiber optic camera out of his bag and knelt down to the bottom of the door. Slipping it under, he angled it to the left, watching the five men gather at the door. He could hear them through the thin door as they debated amongst each other in fast Russian.

Xander glanced at Vi and whispered, "Anything?"

"Yeah." Vi nodded at him. She spoke in an equally quiet voice, "supernatural."

"Four. One's human," Cindy replied as she opened her eyes. She had taken the time to run a quick scan. She couldn't tell the species, but she knew that they were something other than the traditional Russian muscle.

Xander turned to Kate, taking off his jacket and unstrapping his MP5. "Get out there. Make with the badge and ask them what they're doing there. They're not going to pull anything in public like this. Still, I got your back. I see anything odd, I'll come out."

He had had his eye in for the op. He wouldn't have looked the part with the eye patch. At least not for a street cop. Lucky thing if he actually had to go out in the hall. Of course, if he had, it was unlikely that anybody on the other side would be alive to identify him.

Kate nodded and waited until Xander had extracted the camera. She walked out the door as Xander took off his vest and belt, looking more like a detective on a case than the soldier he had looked like waiting for the door to be blown in. A rather odd looking cop that dressed somewhat down, but nobody would really notice. Not with the detective's shield that he had just pulled out and shoved into his pocket. She didn't bother wondering where he had picked that up, knowing that she probably wouldn't like the answer.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" Kate said, in a loud and authoritative voice as she approached the men. They had managed to look inside, visibly noticing the green blood that was visible even from the outside.

She raised her police badge in her left hand, her right empty, but near her sidearm. She looked them all in the eye, not appearing in the least intimidated by the large men. Of course, she actually wasn't.

The five men, all large with thick dark hair looked at each other. The smallest of them took a step forward. "I, I am looking for my friend."

"If he lives here, then I'm afraid you've missed him." Kate put the badge back and pulled out a small notebook. She noticed a number of tattoos on his hands done in dark blue ink. Another blue blob, that could barely be made out as scales, was inked on his neck. "If you can give me your names…"

"Uh, he lives next door," the man said, in a fairly thick accent. "He is not here. I come back later."

"Okay." Kate said, shoving the book back in her pocket. She looked at them fidget, probably wondering what to do.

"Bye," The police detective stated with finality. She turned as they walked past her on the way to the stairwell down. She let out a breath she hadn't known she had held as they walked out of view.

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"Tell me what you saw." Xander stated, staring hard at the demon that was seated on a stool in the backroom of the bar. It was owned by a friend of Cindy's, and provided a good place to interrogate him.

It was dark, and it stank, but it served its purpose. And the large drains on the ground would be useful. If it came down to that.

"Fuck you." Maugham spat out, not really feeling it. What was left of his arm still ached. "I tell you, they're going to find me and kill me. They saw me damn it."

"Fucker, I'll fucking kill ye." Jack walked closer to the demon. He reached behind his back and pulled out a large knife. It had a curved blade that ended in a wickedly sharp point. "Ye can regenerate right? I bet I can make it last a very long time."

"Enough," Xander said, putting a hand up. "Look. We just took your crew. They're ain't no way you're getting out of this without fessing up to us. Now, tell me what you saw. I ask again, and I let him start whacking off body parts. Toes. Ankles. Shins. Tell me when I start getting to something you're going to miss."

Maugham looked at the man in front of him. He could tell that whoever he was, he was serious. He took a deep breath. "Okay. It was a week ago. Saturday. I was hitting up this guy that owed us money-"

"Where?" Kate asked.

"Brooklyn Heights." Maugham shook his head. "Maker's. Anyway, I walk into this alley and I see this fight. I know, no big deal. But, this was different. It wasn't your typical street fight, or even your average demon hunter."

"How many were there?" The detective asked.

"Just one doing the attacking. Some girl. Hot though. Slayer maybe, or a demon," Maugham remarked. "And a couple of guys in suits watching from the back. Weird. They saw me, but I ran before they could get me. Anyway, stupidly, I asked around. Heard that was the usual way the old Watchers' Council did things. But, that's impossible right? They got blown up."

"So why'd you run?" Xander didn't let the revelation affect him visibly. "What are the chances they'll find you. What with your connections and all."

"You didn't see the way they looked. Ain't no way they're just going to let me be." Maugham said.

"Give me a description of the girl." Xander said.

The demon spent the next ten minutes running through all that he saw. Kate was able to ask a few pointed questions that helped them get the most complete picture of what had happened that night. She hoped that there were security cameras at the site or at least within the vicinity. They might even be able to pull out license plate if their vehicle was captured on tape.

"So you're going to let me go right?" Maugham asked hopefully as he finished his tale. He looked around expectantly at the gathered group of men and women. From the looks on their faces, he got the feeling it wasn't going to be that easy.

"Yes," Xander said, as he swiftly pulled out his handgun and pistol-whipped the demon once into unconsciousness.

"What was that?" Kate exclaimed, as the demon fell forward onto his stomach.

"He's seen our faces." Xander replaced his weapon back into its holster. He turned to face the witch on his team. "Cindy, memory wipe."

"What do you want me to replace it with?" The witch asked as she opened up her bag and walked over to a metal countertop set against one of the walls. She started to pull out ingredients

"Our unknown party found him. His bodyguards got wiped out during the attack, but he managed to get away, minus one arm." Xander recognized a few of the ingredients. A large clear quartz crystal and lethe's bramble. And a lighter. A pretty hefty Zippo by the looks of things. "He's on the run. We'll do a dump a mile away from here or so. Get him away from the bar."

"Yeah. Smitty wouldn't like it if we just left him in the alley," Cindy remarked as she took out a small ceramic bowl. A redish crystal followed.

Kate frowned as she took it all in. "What are you going to do?"

Xander looked at her as Cindy prepared her spell. "Bait."

"You can't just…" Kate trailed off, wondering what exactly she was protesting against. She looked around the room. They were all still mostly dressed in their work clothes, though minus the more obvious tactical equipment. There was a hard edge to them that she wondered how she had missed before. Jack, the only one of Xander's team that she had recognized should have clinched it. Government spooks or not, these weren't nice people.

"Aw." Jack snickered. "The detective is having second thoughts about who she's working with. Maybe she should go home."

"Little girl lost," Paul stated, in a blunt voice. While he did have his own strict moral code, it tended toward eye for an eye over what passed for justice in the legal system. There were limits, but evidently his were far greater than those of the detective.

"Quit it. Both of you," Xander snapped, not wanting the ex-terrorist to start trouble with the police officer. Nor the hardened warrior. He walked over and pulled Kate away gently, walking her to one of the corners of the room, away from the rest of the people inside.

"We have a problem?" Xander asked quietly.

Kate looked over his shoulder as Jack started to clean up their gear. Vi just stood off to the side, keeping watch, but not actively doing anything. It was slightly disturbing actually. Especially given how easily the slayer had followed Xander's order to cut off the demon's arm. "What are you doing?"

"Well call me Basil Exposition," Xander joked. He stopped when he saw the look on the detective's face. Evidently he had lost his touch with the disarming humor. "Okay. I don't think our chances of finding the target are too good based on just the tapes and the witness reports that Curtis and your man are getting. We dangle this guy out there, we might get a bite. Best thing I can think of at any rate. You have something better to share with the class?"

She couldn't really say anything. They weren't exactly rolling in leads after all. None that would pan out in the short term with any real guarantee. It didn't feel right though. There had been a number of cases that she had worked which would have been much easier if she had bent the rules, or broke them even. But, she had refrained. She was police for a reason.

Still, it was a different environment. And different rules applied. She shook her head. "Doesn't seem right."

"I'm waiting for the part where I'm supposed to care," Xander said, seriously. "Right and wrong aren't really a problem for us. I mean, it's easy when you just ignore the Jiminy Crickets of the world."

Kate just frowned. She looked away.

"Look, you're right, but I'm not going to hold myself back to appease your sense of morality," Xander said. He looked her in the eyes. Wondering if he was getting through to her. "Jack aside, if you're having second thoughts, we can do this on our own. You don't have to mess with this if you don't want to."

"No. I have to." Kate furrowed her brow. She guessed she understood something of what Angel had gone through in LA.

Xander shrugged. He hoped her world view hadn't been shaken too much. Not everyone was emotionally set up to deal with the things they did, as well as the way they did them in. Of course, he had barely been coping as it was. And, he still had to leave out a number of the members on his own team from some of the more unsavory things that they did. "I get it. But, ask yourself how many scumbags would be gone if we, let the rules slide sometimes."

"And if we keep letting things slide?" Kate questioned, pointedly.

"You think I'm justifying beating the crap out of every suspect?" Xander cocked his eyebrows. "But, let's face it, he's no big loss. All I'm asking, all I'm asking is for you to, close your eyes, for just one minute."

She was a good cop, such as things went. It would be something of a shame if she lost control doing things similar to how he did. Or if she turned on him now.

Kate looked at him hard, in the eye. The one she knew was real. His eye reflected the dim overhead light. They said that the eyes were windows to the soul. The detective couldn't see much inside. As much of a monster as Angel, or Angelus apparently, could be, the man in front of her was something else.

She took a breath, and nodded.

Xander walked back to the demon, grabbing his bag on his way. He opened it up and pulled out a small case, opening that as well. Xander took out a silver gun and loaded a small capsule into it.

He knelt down and pushed the prone demon's shirt away from his neck. He placed the tip of the gun barrel against the top of the demon's back and pressed the trigger. A small tracking device was injected into the Maugham's flesh. It was a mix of magic and technology that had recently been developed. A small data pusher device that would be traceable only when activated. Microscopic runes and inscriptions activated through the body's electrical energy enveloped the device in a magical cloak. It made it nearly impossible to detect while also keeping track of the bearer's life signs, more importantly when they grew frantic and ceased. It didn't last that long though, which was unfortunate, but hopefully it would help them big up a lead.

"Alright," Xander said, as he finished up. "Jack, help Vi get him in the car. The rest of us will clean up."

A knock at the door drew Xander's attention. He stood up and nodded towards the rest of his team to finish up. As they brought the still unconscious demon out the back door, Xander opened the front one and let a man in.

It was the proprietor. A bear of a man, with a large and bushy beard covering a good deal of his plaid shirt, he fit the ambience of the dive bar quite well.

Smitty closed the door behind him as he entered the room. "You guys almost done here?"

"Pretty much. What's up?" Xander asked.

"Guy came in. Asked about One-Eyed Jack. Looking for him." Smitty looked him in the face. "You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"He outside?" Xander questioned the bar owner. He wasn't exactly sure how much he could trust him, though Cindy vouched for him. That got him some of the way, especially since they were using his bar for less than pleasant purposes. Still, it didn't mean he had to let him know what some of his aliases were. Lucky thing he still had the prosthetic in.

"No." Smitty shook his head. "Word's getting around. Gredanko has a hard on for this guy. I figured you might want to know."

"For a talk or he looking to take him out." Xander tried to look as innocent as possible. He shook his head. "I haven't heard anything about him being responsible for this mess. Why would Gredanko be looking for him?"

"Just to talk, I guess." Smitty shrugged lackadaisically. "I haven't heard about any work being contracted for at any rate."

"He give a description?" Xander frowned. "Still, I doubt this is his work. All things considered. From what I've heard, One-Eyed Jack isn't exactly subtle. And, he doesn't leave witnesses."

"True. But, word is he's around," Smitty replied.

Xander didn't like that. He definitely needed to throw up more cover if his presence was getting around that easily. They had been there less than two days. Admittedly, he hadn't exactly been subtle about things, what with meeting Jurgen down below. And, with that many people, it would be impossible to keep things quiet to everybody. Especially people with power and means. The speed was the only real surprising thing.

At least his appearance wasn't aware to the public at large. At least those connected with the supernatural who didn't command personal goon squads.

"Maybe." Smitty declared, not really caring one way or another. It wasn't his business, and he was just passing along information to a friend of a friend. "He's throwing out a wide net. Pretty much having his guys put the word out to any info brokers and the usual suspects for this guy."

"Right." Xander looked behind him. Kate was watching him; as was Vi, having gotten back from the van outside a short time before. She didn't look happy. He felt like she looked. He would have liked to be able to come to New York City and blend in. But, that was getting increasingly hard given the number of people that had seen his face and could identify him.

Of course, his cover was still holding given the ironically delicious conversation he was currently having. It would have been amusing if it didn't carry so much threat in it.

Xander nodded. He put his hand out. "Thanks, but I don't see how that's going to help us much. I appreciate the heads up though. We're almost finished. We'll get out of here as soon as we can."

"No problem. Anything for Cindy." Smitty shook Xander's hand, noting the firm grip. "Let me know when you're about to leave."

Smitty turned around and walked back into the main room of the bar.

Xander put a hand to the back of his neck and rubbed. From reporters to mob bosses. It seemed like everybody was looking for him.

"So what do we do now?" Vi asked. She had heard part of the conversation. None of it good.

Xander turned to face her. "What we were asked here to do. Just, a bit more casual like."

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Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. Though they seem sparser than the number for the first story. Still, thanks.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter 4: For Every Action**

"So he's not doing anything?" Xander said, into his phone. He scrolled down on his laptop as he spoke. Clicking on the mouse, he moved on to Curtis' report. No real useful information pulled form the airlines, though there were some promising leads based on the preliminary witness reports cross-referenced with the video they had pulled from traffic cameras. Unfortunately, preliminary was likely all they would be able to do since it was hardly an official NYPD case. They still had a bit more to go through, but he didn't have any hopes for it.

And, there wasn't exactly an under-abundance of flights from the England or related areas. Nothing that would be useful without a positive ID.

Blonde. That was all he had.

"Nope. Pacing back and forth in his motel room as far as we can tell," Cindy said, on the other side of the line. She was currently sitting in a car outside of the room that Maugham had decided to hole up in. It was only a matter of time before he made a run for it.

Still, having to stay out there so much, even with the shift system was not fun. It had been a couple of days, and there was still nothing. The demon was getting antsy though. Wouldn't be long before he broke. Or something found him.

"You want us to put the word out?" Cindy continued.

Xander thought about it. It could quicken the pace of the investigation, but there were all sorts of problems. For one thing, it was more likely that Gredanko would get hold of the demon first. And, that would be the end of the usefulness of that lead. Especially since he was supposed to be out there dangling. For another, the source of the tip could get out.

"No." Xander glanced over at the report again, skimming it as he thought about what was going on. There were a few possibilities based on what could be made out from the grainy camera shots, but nothing he could move on. It was rather frustrating. And, much different from what they had done back in Sunnydale. Or his usual heavy-handed approach. "Just, keep a watch, and be ready."

"I got it," Cindy replied. "What happens if Gredanko finds him first?"

Xander thought about it for a moment. He looked up and watched Kate look out the window of the hotel room. It was getting close to sunset. And, in all likelihood the mysterious hunters would be acting out again tonight. A gut feeling, but it certainly would fit their methods so far.

"Then he gets as close as we are," Xander stated. It wasn't something that could be helped. But, he didn't have to contribute to it happening. "Let me know what happens."

"No problem." Cindy hung up the phone and turned attention back to her surroundings. She closed her eyes, and let out a breath, reconnecting to the magic that she had laid down.

Xander ended the call and set the cell phone on the coffee table in front of him. He closed the current file and turned to the electronically scanned and faxed copy of the autopsy report on Frankal. The total examination had taken some time. While experts, the men that had come down to perform the autopsy had to consult the reference books quite a bit to figure out what they were seeing. Not every day that one had cut on a demon. At least, forensically. "So you seeing anybody?"

Kate turned around and looked at him. "A little personal?"

"Just making conversation." Xander shrugged, though there were other reasons aside from the obvious. He read through the report, checking out the handwritten notations on the sides. Obviously, they were trying to put it in layman's' terms for him. Helpful of them. He may have more knowledge than the average citizen that wasn't an avid watcher of CSI, but it wasn't like he was an expert. "You know stuff about me and all. I don't know much about you I couldn't read in reports. And, let's face it, if they were that accurate, you wouldn't have had to leave LA."

"Nobody really," Kate said, after a moment. She had dated a couple of times. But, it never worked out. Work, both lines, was one of the obvious reasons. Her own issues made up most of the others. "This job doesn't exactly leave that much time for dating."

"Way I see it, you make time," Xander replied, without looking up. He glanced at the pictures. There were a number of them that showed the relevant data. Close-ups to highlight the important. Mostly the injuries that were sustained in the fight the victim had gotten himself into. At one time he might have even been shocked, but given the sterile nature of the shots along with his own experience, he wasn't particularly moved. He started to print out the file.

As the report was printing out, Xander read aloud, "...metal fragments found in the wounds. Interesting."

"What is?" Kate asked. She picked up the first couple of pages from the printer. She skimmed through them to reach the medical examiner's conclusions. The cause of death was straightforward enough, in basic terms, he had been stabbed to death.

"Aging on the metal," Xander explained. Even pushed through the system with official insistence, it had taken a while to come back from the lab. Lucky that it had paid off. "Old stuff. Middle ages old. They're saying it's from a sword most likely. So we're talking a working blade."

"And old sword," Kate repeated. "That's probably pretty expensive then."

"That's right." Xander agreed. While Giles had supplied most of the weapons back in Sunnydale, they had had to branch out after the original Council had gotten itself blown up. While it was possible to find working weapons of modern design, there was something to be said for the ones that had been made back when they were common. Age had its own sort of magic. And there were always enspelled weapons. And, after he had struck out on his own, he'd managed to find his own sources for weapons. Some first hand knowledge of the logistics of keeping a battle unit in operation. "You don't see too many of them floating around. Just more resources for them to play with, I guess. What else you got?"

Kate shrugged. "It's probably not something they could have picked up here, if they had to travel by air. I don't imagine that you can just walk into an shop and walk out with a sword like that. And, with the security measures in place at the airports, that's probably something that could be traced."

"Good idea. I'll make sure it gets covered," Xander replied. "There is one other thing though."

"What's that?" The detective asked.

"You go into a fight with a weapon like that, it's something that's been tested first. Impurities and, well time, will mess with a weapon if you're not careful of what you got. That's not something you go with faith on." Xander shook his head. "And, ancient weapons from the Middle Ages that you can also take into a fight? That's not something you come across every day. I mean, those that know tend to keep what remains around if it can be used. There are stories of weapons passed from hunter to hunter, use family lines, to the modern day, but the stuff out there isn't that much. And, most of it is spoken for."

"Meaning?" Kate was starting to see where he was going with things.

"Meaning that this is someone that has access to ancient weaponry, money, and what looks like a supernaturally strong young woman," Xander stated. He turned to her. "You ever heard of the Watchers' Council?"

"Yeah." Kate nodded. "But, all the information I've seen says that they got destroyed a couple of years ago."

"True. But, I find it hard to believe that absolutely every single Watcher out there was killed. Way too many of them floating around back in the day," Xander said, hedging himself. It was hard to believe, because it wasn't true as some of the members of the New Watchers' Council could attest to by their very existence. Whether or not the police officer was aware of that, or to what scale more specifically, was another question. "Which means that if this is a slayer, then it looks like at least some of the Council is back trying to run things."

"An organized party," Kate said.

"Or just a couple of Watchers with nothing to watch," Xander replied. "There are enough slayers out there that some might have been picked up by the Watchers. As it is, they know how to identify them."

Xander shook his head. "It's still all supposition and theory. We need faces and names. And, I get the feeling that there are more bodies to be found."

"It takes time you know." Kate walked back to the couch, and sat down. She leaned in closer and looked at what Xander was still reading. A reference guide to the report they had just been reviewing. Somehow it made him more human. "Or is that something you aren't an expert in."

"I may be impulsive, but I'd like to think it's a controlled impulsiveness," Xander replied, without looking up.

"Sure," Kate said, disbelievingly. "So, is this something you thought you'd be doing? What you wanted to be?"

Xander finished with the guide, mentally noting what might be important in the future. He leaned back and closed his eye. He thought about his childhood. Willow. Jesse. It seemed so long ago, though he could easily pull them up in his head. One had nearly killed him. The other he had killed. Twice.

"What? A cop? It was one of the things I wanted to be." Xander turned to look at her, letting the past die down. Idly, he noted that she smelled nice. Though it was a more natural scent. No floral or artificial highlights that would be caused by scented soaps or deodorants. He wondered if that was to give her something of an edge, however slight. "When I was like, ten. Course, I also wanted to be an astronaut cowboy too. How about you?"

Kate laughed, surprising the both of them.

Xander smiled. "C'mon, what did you want to be when you were a kid?"

"A cop," Kate replied. "My dad was a cop. Seemed like the thing to do."

"Yeah, well you do it well." Xander nodded. "Not like you need me to tell you that though."

"Couldn't really tell by how this case is going though." Kate's own desire for a break was starting to show through.

"It's only been a couple of days." Xander shook his head. He wondered at the impatience. Though, ultimately he knew that the real issue was what could happen out on the streets as opposed to an internal desire for action. "Still, something would be nice. It's almost enough to actually have some respect for these guys. If it wasn't for, you know, the senseless killings and everything. Besides, Vi shouldn't be out this long. And, I'm sure the others have their own things to do."

"Why?" Kate asked, wondering about the concern for the slayer. She had her suspicions, but they weren't obviously involved.

"She uh, she has class. Well, she shouldn't miss any more of them." Xander replied with a moment's hesitation; he knew what she was asking about. "I don't want her to fall behind, even is she doesn't officially have to show up for the lectures if she turns everything in on time. At least her grades are good."

"So you and her, are…" Kate trailed off.

Xander shrugged again. He thought about exactly how much he should be telling. At least, what he should tell without consulting with his girlfriend. Still it wasn't like the government employee seated next to him didn't have her own resources. And, she had already seen both of their faces. "Something like that."

"What's her major?" Kate wondered on the appropriateness of the relationship. Chain of command and all that. Strictly forbidden in many lines of work. Though it seemed like that was something he had a handle on.

"Psychology." Xander said. "She, uh, likes it okay I guess. You can ask her about it if you want."

"Isn't she a little young for you?" Kate asked, idly.

Xander shrugged. He was tempted to make a remark about her friend, Angel, but he refrained from doing so. "She doesn't seem to think so."

He lay his head back again.

"Okay." Kate asked, once it became apparent that he wouldn't say anything more on the subject. She didn't exactly blame him. She could tell where it was coming from. "So what do we do now?"

"Unless you got something else for me," Xander turned to face her, head still lying on the couch. It was clear what he meant; no double entendre intended. "Then we wait."

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The man ran down the tunnel. He could tell that the people chasing him were still coming, though he had gained a bit of time. He stopped, unable to keep running at the breakneck pace. He leaned against the stone wall of the underground IRT tunnel and started panting.

They had found him at his stop. With nobody else on the platform he had managed to fight one off and make a break for it. Unfortunately, the only clear way had been to jump down to the tracks and make a run for some way out. A lucky incident with an oncoming subway train had let him gain a lead against them. Especially that woman they had with them. Supremely fast and strong, she had to be more than human.

He had a vague sense of where he should be going. As he calmed, he felt it get stronger. It would give him some idea of where to go. Way more than his pursuers had. A little luck and he would be able to make it to an active station and be able to get streetside. They would be less likely to make a move out on the street. Even if it was night.

The man looked down the tunnel the way he had come. He clenched the appropriate muscles and shifted his face. His eyes turned red as blue spikes erupted from his face and neck. The brachen hybrid's skin turned green as he took a sniff of the air. They were gaining.

He had no idea why they were coming after him. He was a teacher and something of a diplomat, and he had no real enemies. Not in his public nor his demonic faces. Though from the weapons they were packing it seemed rather obvious which they had conflict with. Could be hunters; maybe even one of the slayers that were now running around. It could even half to do with his brother in-law's work. Probably the least likely motivation. The half-Brachen stayed out of that world as much as possible. He was clean, family lines notwithstanding. And anybody that knew of the connection knew of the monumental mistake it would be to target family. Even extended family.

He took a deep breath, feeling some amount of renewed strength now that he was in his demon form. He turned to the other direction. The tunnel split off in two different directions. He concentrated and took off into a run again.

Running down the right hand tunnel, it wasn't long before he could see a dim light off to the right. It came from the overhead fluorescents that indicated an open platform. There would be an exit topside there. If he could make it.

He kept running.

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Detective Ruffalo looked down at the body lying on the paved floor of the subway station. From the wound in his back, it looked like he had tried to run. Didn't quite make it though.

"Detective," one of the crime scene investigators called out to him.

The police detective looked up and waited for the woman to reach him. He saw the wallet in her gloved hand, likely the one from the recently deceased.

"His wallet," she said, handing it to him.

Detective Ruffalo opened it up and checked out the ID. He read of the name, "Nikolay Sergeyevich Lamanov."

He opened up the billfold, there was no money, and any credit cards were gone as well. It seemed like a simple robbery. Except for the part where it seemed like he had done a runner quite a long way through the subway tunnels. And, the blood strewn about in the tunnels indicating a pretty big struggle after the man had been shot in the back. And finally, the large wound from the man's back that did not look like he had been shot. Not with a gun at any rate.

"Lamanov," Ruffalo said, aloud. The name was familiar. He had to think about it for a moment before he made the connection. It was the same surname as that of Anton Gredanko's wife.

The NYPD detective Second Grade pulled out his cell phone and thumbed down on the address book until he found the right one. He put it to his ear and waited until the person on the other side picked up.

"Yeah, it's me. We got a problem."

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"Brother in-law." Xander said, leaning against the wall. He had just dropped the blood into the chemical test and was waiting until it changed color. He looked at the detective. Gordon didn't exactly look pleased to have to tell them what they had figured out in person. "You're telling me he's family to one of the biggest gangsters this side of Tony Soprano."

"Pretty much," Detective Ruffalo confirmed. The autopsy hadn't turned up much that was surprising. Some odd musculature perhaps, but the biggest oddity was the way he died. Actually, the instrument used. The forensics said an arrow or a crossbow bolt.

Xander looked at the vial he had been holding. It had turned blue.

He held it up. "Test's positive. He was a demon. That puts him clearly on this side of our wayward killer's list."

It was a simple blood test conducted from a swiped blood swap from the victim. Didn't tell much, aside from that one point.

"And, we don't have any video from the station," Xander said, having browsed through the quick writeup prior to the detective's arrival at their base of operations. No detailed examination of the body. Heck, the body had probably just arrived at the morque. Just a quick head's up on what was going on.

"Like I told you, we got nothing." Gordon shook his head. "The video of the scene only shows Lamanov dying on the platform. Then it goes wacky. Whoever attacked him weren't on video. And, for some reason, the video goes to static at the station where he was first attacked at too."

"Magic I would think," Xander declared. Electronic disruption wasn't something completely unknown to them. But, from the more subtle way it had been described it was likely a directed attempt as opposed to bleedover from a particularly powerful wizard or witch. "Good cover if you can pull it off, but it gets sloppy when you leave bodies behind."

"What do you think he's going to do?" Curtis asked from his place on the couch. He looked up at Xander leaning against the hotel room wall.

"You've read the dossier, this guy highly values family. And, he's not exactly shy about acting when it comes to threats." Xander met his partner's look. "You know what he's going to do. What you got?"

"We've gone through all the video," Curtis reported. "We got one probable. Black panel van, we ID'ed the plates, but they came up as stolen. Four men, suits. One women. We couldn't get any faces though. We're still working on the plates, it might give up something. But, right now, we got a deadend."

"We need to figure out what Lamanov was into. If he was in the family business," spoke Xander. "Kate, you guys pulled the case. Dig into it. I want to know what you guys have on him. Officially and not. Also, I want you to get my ME in to check the body. See exactly what kind of not human this guy is. If his kin is any indication, it could be any number of things. And, I don't want any surprises. Stay in touch though, coordinate with Gordon to set everything up. I'll need you for some work tonight."

Kate nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

"Curtis, dig up what you can in the federal databases." Xander turned to his own man. "See if we get a hit on linking Lamanov with Frankal and the other victims we have so far."

"How do we know this is the same guy?" Vi asked from her seat on the carpet. She was working with her computer. Multitasking, she was listening to the briefing while also editing her term paper. "I mean, it could be some other hunter. Or someone with a liking for unusual weapons."

She was the only other member of the team there. Cindy, Paul, and Jack still had stakeout duty. She was rather glad actually. Hanging out in a car for hours with those two men wasn't exactly on her list of fun activities.

"It's a fair point," Xander acknowledged. "But, with the way our luck's running, I doubt it. We should still see what pops out with the data mining. Could be something there."

"What are you thinking?" Kate asked. "They're all connected? Like one big damn plot?"

Xander shook his head. "I get a feeling that some of these might be targets of opportunity. Or maybe to cover up some of their tracks. But, most of this seems like it's tied together. Cause with the names coming up, it's the most coincidental mass murder spree ever otherwise. If it is the Council, I highly doubt that they're going to be hitting random demons that just happen to be doing important things."

"So what are you going to do, Xander?" Curtis asked. So far, everybody had assignments. Except for their boss. Of course, with what was currently happening, all he really needed to do was administrate.

He could damn near see the wheels turning inside the one-eyed man's head.

"Demons getting killed out on the streets aside from the usual riffraff? Peacemakers getting cutting down in their apartments? And, now a gangster's in-law getting shot down like a dog. No suspects we can find. The king of this town isn't going to like that." Xander frowned. "I'm going to have to head this thing off before the other side starts coming down hard."

"And, you're going to do that how?" Kate asked.

"Going to have to see the man." Xander continued frowning. "See if I can talk some sense into him."

Curtis frowned. He knew that he couldn't just brook disagreement, but it seemed like the wrong move. He glanced at the slayer, she seemed to share his opinion. He saw her nod slightly at him.

"I know, it's dumb. Still, without anything else to go on, I don't think we can expect him to sit around and wait while we sit around and wait for the bad guys to make a mistake." Xander could tell what they were thinking just from the looks on their faces. "But, unless anybody has a better idea, it's basically what we got to work with."

Nobody said anything.

"Yeah," Xander said, quietly. He nodded. "Yeah. Just get to work."

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"This is dumb," Vi stated, watching Xander get ready and get dressed. "This is without a doubt, the stupidest thing you've ever done. You shouldn't just go to him cause he's looking for you and his brother in-law just got killed. He doesn't know who you are. And, he's sure not going to be in a good mood. And, you aren't exactly the most subtle person."

"Yet. He doesn't know who I am, yet." Xander looked behind him, glancing at the slayer sitting on his bed. He pulled down the waist of his pants, exposing his lower back and lower. He pressed the metal injection gun to skin, the wide needle sinking into the top of the flesh of his left buttock. To his credit, he didn't wince. A pull of the trigger, and a metallic snap, and the tracking device sunk deep into his flesh. He put the injector back on the table and picked up a small GPS device. A push of a button and the tracking device was activated. The GPS homed in on his location, highlighting it to within the acceptable standards. He switched it back to sleep mode. "He's going to keep digging, even harder now, and this is one city I didn't exactly stay the most secretive in. Better to go to him now, then let him find me when he's even more good and riled. And, maybe the rest of you."

"I still think it's a bad idea," Vi grumbled. She leaned back, lying on the bed. The slayer knew that she was in a privileged position. She had seen Curtis' look, and knew what it meant. With the newcomers out there, they couldn't just question their leader. However, in private, as they were, she would be in a position to voice their concerns. Not that it would change much. But, at least it would get it out in the open. And maybe bring up some things they needed to be careful of. Even if she was pretty much certain that he wouldn't change his mind.

"Besides, he might have some information," Xander continued, turning around. He reached down to the desk and picked up a small handgun. He carefully inserted the P-32 into the front of his pants, making sure that nothing jostled the trigger. Xander picked up a larger handgun, a silver .45, and placed it at the small of his back. It would undoubtedly get picked up and out. That was part of the dance of course. Be rather suspicious if he didn't walk into the place armed. The hope, of course, was that they'd miss the smaller weapon.

He rubbed his right forearm as he turned around. At least he hadn't picked up any long-lasting damage yet. It would have been hard enough without something that would hinder his performance. "Look, I know your concerns. But, there really isn't another option here."

"I'm coming with you," Vi said, her tone even and steady.

"No, you're not," Xander replied, looking into the mirror at his girlfriend. "I need you to be on the stakeout when it comes time to trail Maugham. Jack says he's going to make his break for it soon. The transpo has been setup, and apparently not in the most secretive way. He probably got word of Lamanov's murder, so he's got to be pretty nervous about that. I need you on that, if the unsub goes after him."

"Unsub?" Vi asked.

"Unknown subject," Xander said, shrugging. "One of those cop things I must have picked up. I have a feeling I'm going to get a hankering for donuts if we stay here much longer."

Vi smiled.

"You're going to need to take the rest of the team too. It's probably a slayer after all. Keep back though, I don't want her sensing you." Xander continued explaining his reasoning. "Get Cindy to work a spell if you have to mask your presence. Curtis is going to be in charge until I get back. Listen to him. No really, listen to him. If anything comes up, I want you to follow his lead."

"Right, anything comes up, meaning you get hurt. Or dead." Vi frowned.

"Yeah, well, let's just hope it doesn't come to that." Xander opened the small black case that rested on the desk. He took off his eyepatch and laid it on the desk. Picking up a fake eyeball from the case, he put it into the empty socket, adjusting it until it was in place. A blue colored contact lens went onto his right eyeball. The colors matched perfectly.

Glue was brushed across his chin and upper lip. He also brushed it across the lower sides of his face. Brown facial hair was applied, not too thick, but enough to obscure the lower part of his face a bit. It wouldn't do much, but could buy an extra second or two in the future.

Xander brushed his hair forward, messing it up as it hung wildly about the front of his head. He would have liked to have dyed it, but if Gredanko was a werewolf, it wouldn't have helped. As it was, it would be likely that he would know that the facial hair he had just finished applying wasn't real either. But, the gangster couldn't very well rip it off of his face. At least he hoped not. That wouldn't be polite.

Vi stood up and approached him. She watched in the mirror at what he had been doing. "You need backup."

"I have it," Xander said, as he turned around to face her. "Police girl's coming with me. Just in case Gredanko gets any ideas. Official police presence and all that. He won't risk making us disappear. Not with a cop there."

Vi frowned. "I don't like this."

"You think I do?" Xander asked. He pulled his pea coat off of the desk chair in front of him and put it on. "This is all kinds of suck."

"I thought you wanted to do this subtly," Vi stated, crossing her arms. "This isn't exactly subtle."

"It's Jack subtle." Xander kept himself from smiling hopefully, wanting to let the spirit gum dry completely.

"Which one? 'Cause I don't think even he'd be this stupid." Vi didn't like where this was going. "This is risky."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Xander nodded. It wasn't like he wanted to do this. Just that the alternative was something he liked less. "Look, this guy, he's dangerous. The things they say…he's got resources I can't touch. I don't want him sniffing anywhere around you guys. Around you."

Vi smiled briefly. She moved closer and embraced him from behind.

"Watch the face," Xander still not smiling, hugged her back. He turned around. "Glue's not set yet."

"Promise me you'll try to keep out of trouble. You know, stay safe." Vi looked up at him. "I don't want to have to resurrect you just to kick your ass. I still don't like you doing this. Especially if I'm not going to be there."

She smiled again.

He kissed her lightly. "I…I'll be okay. I promise, alright. Besides, you got that term paper coming up. You really need to finish that. Can't have you out here too much longer. Watch yourself though. You're not exactly sitting on the sidelines either."

He let himself enjoy the moment. But, only for a moment. He kissed her softly again. "We should, we should go. Things to do and all that."

Vi nodded. "Yeah. Let's go."

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Author's Note: That took longer than expected, and there's some stuff I'll probably edit when I get around to posting it at Xanderzone. And, I'm going to be really busy for the next couple of weeks. Hopefully I can have a couple of chapters done by the end of the year. Thanks for the reviews.


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter 5: There is a Complete and Opposite Reaction**

"So, you ever been here before?" Xander asked as he looked out the windshield of the car. They were parked down the street from the upscale bar that Anton Gredanko did business out of. There were a fair amount people milling around. The obvious attractive females getting in quicker. As it probably should be, if the bar wanted to stay in business. Some people gathered in groups in a line next to the old brick front of the building. Quite a few men were in line, which was hardly surprising. From the look of things, it was a rather popular place. Even on a "schoolnight."

Xander idly wondered if those going in and wanting to go in knew what went down there. Not just the likely crime, but everything. Undoubtedly some did, such as the large bull-necked man that just waltzed in with a blonde that seemed to be wearing a skirt way too short for the weather. The quick glimpse of tats he could barely make out on the man's hands was confirmation enough. He looked over at the female next to him. With a little makeup and the right clothes, she wouldn't be all that out of place. Of course, they would still have to be suitably luxurious. He probably couldn't get in though, not even with the not inexpensive bribes that opened doors in some areas. At least, him as a civilian.

Kate looked at him from the driver's seat. She smiled slightly at the thought of barhopping. It had never really been her thing, not even as a kid. At least, not in these types of clubs. "No. You think we can get in?"

Xander flexed his fingers, feeling the tips pull a little bit. He reached into his pocket and pulled a playing card. He wiped it down on his pant legs and then turned it around, showing the front of it to Kate. The light from the neon sign that hung over the bar entrance made it barely visible. It was the Jack of Hearts.

"One-Eyed Jack." Kate thought back for a moment. "That guy in that bar. He said that Gredanko was looking for a guy called that. And Eirene was it, she called you Jack."

Xander turned to look at her. He shoved the card back into his pocket. "Yes, well you can't just not accept a nickname when you're given one. That's not how things are done. It's a guy thing, I'm sure."

"I heard rumors about someone with that nickname." Kate replied, thinking back to some of the various reports she had read when she had become more involved in the life.

"You don't say." Xander frowned. Clearly word had gotten out to areas he hadn't wanted. Of course, with the Internet and all, something happening halfway across the world could become the next day's headlines. Even if it was only in the less reputable papers. "Well, it serves a purpose."

"You don't seem like the type of guy…" Kate trailed off as she saw Xander's expression. The look in his eye, he could be quite a few types of guy. "I mean, there wasn't anything definite, but it was pretty bad stuff."

"Bad like Angelus?" Xander scoffed. He took out the gun he had behind his back and wiped it off on his clothes. He ejected the magazine and rubbed that down too. The silvery round at the top reflected light rather dully. He wasn't sure if the Russian mobster was a werewolf or not, but it didn't hurt to be prepared. Still, he had loaded in every other shot with silver hollow points. Even if he wasn't, a shot with that would still mess a guy up.

He pulled the slide back, and checked the barrel, making sure it was clear. Xander placed it back against the small of his back, handling it as carefully as possible. Taking a cue from a couple of TV shows and movies, he had made sure that there were no fingerprints on the bullets themselves. Xander reached down to his crotch and pulled out his secondary weapon. He checked that and wiped it down as well. "Forget it. Okay, this is what's going to happen. I'm sure there's all sorts of badness we're going to see when we get up there. Gredanko's might even decide he's going to throw some in our faces just to put us off balance. You're a cop, but let's not let that get us killed."

Kate nodded, in mild amusement.

Xander reached down and pulled up his shoulder bag. He opened the front pocket and pulled out an automatic knife. He extended the blade and wiped that down fully as well. He placed it into his coat pocket as well. Closing his eye, he though about what else he carried on his body. Xander opened his eye after a few seconds, content that there was nothing left to clean.

"So I don't flash a badge," Kate said, taking out her shield. She had watched Xander's little ritual with some interest. "How's he going to know?"

Xander looked her over, as he replaced the bag on the floor of the car. He had already loaded up the rest of his gear on the way over, leaving only the weapons for last. He looked over towards the detective.

Detective Lockely had made herself up a little. From a distance it wasn't so bad. However, the pants, and especially the shoes told another story. Nobody wore those to a club. At least, nobody went to a club like this wearing those. Not with an intention of actually going in. "No offense, but you kind of scream cop. From that story you told me, I'm actually kind of surprised that Angel was taken in."

"And, you're an excellent judge of character now?" Kate asked, snidely.

"When you got a tweaker with a gun at your head, and you got to decide whether he's going to pull the trigger or not, and you're asking yourself if you feel lucky…" Xander shrugged, trying to calm down. "Sorry, I had a lot of coffee before we left. Let's just say, I've had time to hone a fine sense of the detective. Maybe not Batman level, but I figure I can pull off a decent Nightwing. Anyway, keep your badge, it'll make it all official when he invites us in. And, might give him pause if he decides that it isn't worth it to talk to us."

He knew why he felt antsy. A year or so before, and he probably could have walked in and out without a case of nerves. At that point, he hadn't really cared if he lived or died, as long as it was for what he thought he owed. Now, maybe he had too much to lose.

The one-eyed man took a breath and held it. He waited for a five count before exhaling through his nose. He felt calmer after that.

Xander opened his door and got out. He closed it and looked over the roof of the car until the police detective had gotten out as well. "So I'll be Jack, dashing man about town. Use that name, I'd rather he not know what my real name is. And, you'll be my lovely police counterpart. Just don't do anything police-y and we should be fine. I hope."

Kate didn't say anything, but she clearly wasn't happy about the situation. She closed the door and locked the car. She waited for Xander to walk around the vehicle and join her. Together they walked down the street towards the entrance to the bar.

Xander had his hand in his coat pocket as he reached the doorman. From the size of him, he was also a bouncer. All of maybe six foot five and weighing a hefty sum, he was certainly the type of guy you'd want protecting your establishment. His piercing dark eyes took in everything, and the headset he had over his large head meant that he would be more likely to at least check him out before turning him away.

He waited as the bouncer let a particularly good-looking woman into the club. From the brief time that the door was open Xander could make out shapes dancing on a dance floor as well as some tables. The place was fairly packed, and given the day, it certainly seemed to be a popular spot. Not knowing the exact nature of the New York City nightlife, he didn't know if that was unusual or not. The door was shut quickly as the woman made her way in.

To the doorman's credit he didn't give any note of watching the way she walked. He did his job well, turning his attention to the couple that had bypassed the line and had appeared in front of him.

"Your boss is expecting me," Xander said, sizing the man up. A part of him wondered what kind of tattoos he'd show if he had his shirt off. And whether or not he could take the guy in a straight fight. All signs pointed to no.

The bouncer glanced at Kate for a moment before declaring in a polite, but firm voice, "back of the line."

Xander pulled the card out of his pocket, noting the way that the man nearly imperceptibly tensed. Action ready. He turned it around and held in front of the bouncer's face. "I think you better check with the Man first."

He watched as the bouncer looked at the card and then spoke into his headset. Though whispered, Xander could tell that it was Russian. The conversation only took a moment, though the doorman still waited for a nearly a minute before beckoning them forward. Xander put the card back into his pocket in the meantime.

With a wave of a hand, the door was opened and Xander and Kate walked in.

"Spasibo," Xander called back over his head as the door shut. He watched as a man approached them in the short hallway that led to the club proper. Dressed in a particularly nice suit, he came up to them and stopped. Two larger men flanked him, though they stayed out of the way.

"If you please," the first man said, leading them into a small room off to the right of the entrance. The door made it look like a utility closet, but it would seem to serve another purpose. He had to unlock it with a magnetic security card first. That was something that didn't go unnoticed by the newcomers.

Xander noted that with five people, there wasn't that much room. Likely one of the reasons why they did it there. The two goons behind him were probably fairly adept at handling themselves sans weapons.

"Raise your arms," the well-dressed man said, in a Russian accent. He motioned them to follow his instructions.

Xander raised his arms. The Russian frisked him quickly. The .45 that he was carrying was found and passed to the man behind him. As was the knife. He had left his cell phone and wallet elsewhere. If they were confiscated, they could give too much up, and he couldn't exactly tell them not to take them if he brought them in. It was risky, but better than the alternative. Who knew how quickly Gredanko's men could clone a SIMM card or any of a dozen things that could be used to track him down. He waited as the man patted down his chest and then waist. Inquisitive hands soon cupped his balls, and stopped. Xander said nothing.

The man stepped back. He held out a hand, palm up. "If you please."

Xander smiled as he reached into the front of his pants. "Obviously a man that's seen some of Shane Black's movies. Last Kiss Goodnight maybe? I'm more of a Last Boy Scout man myself. Though you can't go wrong with Lethal Weapon. No?"

He pulled out the hideaway pistol and placed it in the offered hand. Xander shrugged. "What can I say? Had to try."

The man gave it to one of the security men and continued the search, not saying anything in response to Xander's words.

The man finished frisking Xander, not finding any more weapons. He didn't have anymore. At least, nothing on his body.

Kate was next, who also had her sidearm and companion piece removed. Her badge was inspected, but it was returned. She noticed the man read over her badge number a couple of times however. Likely in order to remember it.

"You have a name?" Xander asked, when the man had finished. "I mean, now that you've felt me up, I think we should be on a first name basis."

"Vasily," the man in the suit said. He waved towards the door behind them. "This way."

Vasily brushed by them and led them into the club. The two guards took off in a different direction, likely having something to do with weapons that they were now placing in plastic bags they had removed from their pockets.

Xander made sure he picked up the rear. On the way to the back, and the stairs that led to the second floor, he scanned the crowd. The usual gender mix was present. And despite the night, the place was packed. Getting a drink in the place would be rather difficult. And, there would undoubtedly be some bruises if he tried to dance out on the floor. The place even looked like it might be fun. Of course, he was more concerned with other things.

The ones on the dance floor probably wouldn't be much of a concern. The flashing lights, loud music, and lack of a clear line of sight to the back meant that anybody there most likely wouldn't be able to keep an eye on the way in or out. That left the tables. Both the tall tables with stools that surrounded the dance floor and dotted the bar area as well as the low coffee tables to one side.

Just from sight he could see the number of men that kept the buttons on their rather expensive suits buttoned. Even with their "dates," ones that tended to be a number of years younger, they were still rather stiff. Though with the empty glasses and bottles on the tables they would not be able to react all that quickly. Or shoot all that straight. Undoubtedly they were business associates or member of the family. Only reason why they would be allowed to carry weapons inside the club.

He saw some doors that led to private rooms beneath the office. He wasn't much concerned with them though. One-way mirror, but way too expensive to use for security on the off chance that someone like him would come strolling in.

Xander started to climb the stairs, sparing one last glance behind them. He checked out the people that watched him go up; flattering if not for the present circumstances. A barman with a serious expression on his face, not paying attention to the crowd around him. A few men sprinkled in the bar are, with no associated glasses. And a woman, oddly enough in pants, that was seated on one of the plush sofas to the right. She didn't appear to be drinking either. If he had been a slayer, or a witch, or any number of things he might have been able to check out what they were. As it was, they looked human.

The black metal stairway up led to a narrow walkway that overlooked the large bar. Xander checked out the room that they would soon be entering. It was a large office, with thick walls that meant soundproofing. Of course, that wouldn't look out of place for an office set above a nightclub. Then again, it would also muffle sounds that originated from inside that room. Ones that would be less than pleasant in nature.

Vasily knocked on the door and waited for a few seconds before opening the door and beckoning the two of them to go inside. He closed it behind them, the man did not enter himself. With the various weapons in his temporary possession, there were a number of things he needed to do before they were given back. Serial numbers needed to be recorded, and fingerprints needed to be lifted. Vasily hurried down the stairs. The conversation inside may not last very long. And it had been a while since he had been called upon to do anything that could prove to be intellectually stimulating.

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"So," Anton Gredanko stated, looking at the man and woman that had just entered his office. He templed his fingers in front of him, staring at the two. The dour expression on his face didn't change. The gangster leaned back in his leather office chair as he continued looking at them. Xander in particular.

Kate fidgeted a moment as she checked out the room. It was expensively furnished. A large mahogany desk was in the center of the large room with a laptop set to one side. The usual office related supplies were on the desk as well. A couple of bookshelves were in the back corners. The bottom shelves of each were filled with large white binders, undoubtedly connected to business, legitimate or otherwise. On the tops of them she could see photos. A man, in his late forties with salt and pepper hair, with a woman of about the same age. It was the same man that sat before them now. The woman was most likely his wife.

Xander took a step forward, noting the man seated on a couch on the side of the room facing the club. A large window, a one-way mirror, was set above it. From the way he was seated, and the build, it was likely he could handle himself. No tattoos on this one, at least none visible. Xander kept looking for a moment longer and noticed something. The man didn't appear to be breathing.

"Word is you wanted to talk to me," Xander said, turning towards the man in charge. He wasn't sure exactly what he should feel. If he was in danger, at least intentional danger, Gredanko wouldn't have been asking for him. As it was, the fact that the man had lost someone close to him caused some amount of sympathy. But, he knew better than most what that could do to a man.

"Da," Gredanko stated. His expression never changing. "I'm sure you know why."

"My condolences on the death of your brother in-law. I'm told he was a remarkable man," Xander continued. He paused, watching as the man on the couch reached over and opened a small cabinet that was part of the end table that sat next to the couch. It looked like a mini-fridge had been built into it. A green darkly translucent bottle, nearly opaque, bottle and few shot glasses were taken out. It didn't look like any sort of bottle of brand alcohol that he was familiar with.

Xander looked back at Gredanko. "But, I don't think it concerns me."

"Doesn't it?" Gredanko spoke again, just as annoyingly succinct. He kept his expression neutral. Whether it was an effort or not could not be discerned.

"Only because you're bringing me into it," Xander said, looking the man in the eye. He searched the other man's face. There were a number of age lines on his face, as well as a small scar above one eye. He didn't look particularly dangerous. In fact, he looked something like one would imagine a CPA to look. "That's not exactly something I appreciate. And, not something you should be playing with if you want me to feel particularly inclined to do you any favors."

"We need to talk business," Gredanko said, ignoring the subtle threat. "Because you are surely interfering in mine."

The man on the couch stood up and walked behind his boss, leaving the bottle and two glasses on the top of the end table. The suit jacket was intentionally left undone, and the ends of it swung out as he moved.

Xander only took a quick look at the black OTs-33 that hung from a shoulder holster under the man's left armpit. It had been one of the weapons he could have purchased in Yemen, though he had ultimately decided on the Glock. The Russian pistol could fire full automatic, and given the relatively tight space, they'd never make it out of the room intact.

"A man in your position, and your present circumstances," Xander spoke, looking the lead gangster in the eyes. "A man like you would only be looking for me for two reasons. One, you think I'm the guy that killed your brother in-law. Two, you want me to find the guy that killed your brother in-law. I get the feeling that if it had been number one, I'd already be dead."

"My men described the policewoman that questioned them." Gredanko looked at Kate. "They were quite accurate. I know that you know more than I do about the current situation. Your efforts to find the wayward Mr. Maugham, efforts much quicker than mine it seems, say much about your expertise in these matter. Also, I'm sure you have your own reasons to be looking into this. As such, you will find the exact person responsible for killing Sergey and bring him to me. Alive. If possible."

"And, I'm supposed to be doing this out of the goodness of my heart? You may have my sympathies, but I didn't know him. I honestly don't care about him or what happened to him," Xander replied, drolly. "I thought this was business, and so far there's been nothing but you asking me to do something for you. And, I already have a job. Now, is this going to be the part where you threaten me? Cause I do still have things to do now."

"Do I need to? Threaten you?" Gredanko asked. He looked Xander in the eye. "It won't be much out of your way, and I believe I can make it worth your effort. Especially considering how you have impeded my own actions here."

"Money?" Xander raised his eyebrows. "Or maybe one of those nice ladies that I saw downstairs. You think that concerns me? Either of them?"

"I think that, I can find some way of persuading you." Gredanko nodded at Kate. Still not showing any reaction. "Something pertaining to Detective Lockely perhaps."

"You're kidding me right?" Xander moved closer to the table and leaned down, resting his fists on the top of it. "Cop. You're threatening a cop?"

Kate, to her credit, said nothing. She could see that it really wasn't about her, and that any attempt to get involved could end badly for them both. So, despite her desire to actually interfere, she did nothing.

Xander leaned in even closer, nearly whispering this time. "And, how much do you actually think I care about her? Enough to try to stop you from doing anything to her? How much do you really think you know about me? Enough to guess what I'm going to do if you keep pushing?"

"Of course not. I would never do something like that to a servant of the city. But, all sorts of unfortunate things could happen." Gredanko shrugged, very much the upstanding citizen and pillar of the community that he was. Pretending to be, at any case. "As happened to Sergey. As for you, how well do you think you know me?"

Xander straightened up. "I understand how you feel. Maybe, better than you might think. But, this is personal for you. And, I learned a long time ago that that doesn't mix well with this sort of business. I'll get these guys, but not for you. And I ain't dragging any corpses in here simply because you ask or threaten me to."

Xander turned around to leave, but stopped when he heard Gredanko stand up. He turned back around to notice perhaps the first inkling of human emotion in the older man's face. In fact, he seemed to even have aged a few years.

"Wait, please," Gredanko said reluctantly. It was obvious that he did not have much practice in asking for help. "This is important to my wife. And, important to me. But, more importantly, I will take this city apart to find out who was responsible. Yes, it is personal to me. And, though it's just a job to you, it will be much harder for you to do it if you don't do this."

"What? You're going to take a shot at me?" Xander scoffed, though he certainly didn't feel it. As it was, he wasn't too sure about his chances. Not if the guy was a werewolf and his suspicions about the other man were right. "You know, you got what? Your Cossack looking friend here. What is he? Alfa? Vympel? Black Sea?"

Both men across the table said nothing.

"Right. And maybe ten guys downstairs?" Xander continued, letting his right arm hang loosely by his side. "You know, on a bad day, that might actually be a challenge. So how about I leave, and you can get back to your machismo."

"No. You're right, it would be foolish to continue in this manner. Though I think that you might have problems with Yuri, here, if you tried anything." Gredanko nodded, looking Xander in the eye. "Now, what will it take for you to work with me on this? I do need, your help."

Xander thought about it for a moment. He could see that despite his power, the mob boss was asking this as someone that was in pain. And who could cause quite a bit of it himself. "Okay. But, this is one way only. I do this, cause it's basically something I'm already doing. Don't think this is the start of a relationship. No favors, nobody owed nobody. And, you don't get involved. I do this on my own without any of your lapdogs, I make sure I know who it is, and I'll deal with it. Bringing him back to you is my prerogative. Just stay out of the way of me and mine. That acceptable to you?"

Gredanko nodded. "It will have to be. You are a brave man, Mr. Jack. I may have more business for you if this turns out well."

"I meant what I said. This doesn't mean anything," Xander said as clearly as he could, and turned to leave.

"Wait." Yuri spoke for the first time. He smiled, rather looking like a shark for a moment. And, that wasn't even with fangs. "Perhaps we should seal this with a drink."

Xander glanced at Gredanko, noting that the boss was letting his goon act out. Perhaps just seeing how the situation would be handled, or maybe Yuri was more than just hired muscle. Likely, it was on the mobster's orders.

"Okay." Xander said moving to the bottle. He watched as Yuri unscrewed the bottle and poured a thick red liquid into the two glasses. The slightly coppery tang hit his nose, turning his stomach slightly. He recognized it immediately.

Yuri picked one up and held it in front of him. He waited for Xander to pick up his own.

"So what are you really? Spetnaz? How long's it been?" Xander asked, as he picked up his own shot, never hesitating.

Yuri smiled slightly and nodded. "Many years."

"Prost." Xander raised the shot and downed it, as did the Russian. The tangy thick blood coated his mouth and throat, but he forced himself to swallow it. It had been mixed with a little bit of vodka, probably good quality stuff, but it wasn't enough to mask what it was. He kept his face clear though. He smiled again. "Good stuff."

Yuri just kept smiling as he set his empty shot glass down. He licked his top lip, catching a bit of blood that had collected there.

"Yuri will see you out," Gredanko said, checking his watch. He picked up a pen and wrote down a number on a piece of paper. He passed it to Xander who glanced at it and then pocketed it. "That's a direct line. You find something, you tell me. My resources are at your disposal. You need only ask I won't insult you by asking for a method of contacting you. Your belongings will be at the door with Vasily."

"Alright." Xander nodded, knowing that it was a dismissal. "That's it then."

They left the room, Yuri taking up the rear. He directed them directly towards the entrance.

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Xander made sure that his weapons were properly secured as he stepped outside the club. He had already inspected them back in that room, noting that there weren't any tracking devices inserted anywhere. It hadn't taken that long to talk to the man, but it was certainly longer than he had wanted to be inside. He waited for Kate to come out as well, before turning around. Yuri had followed them out.

"Okay then," Xander said. He looked at the Russian that was still watching them. With a rather unsettling interest when it came to Kate now that he wasn't under his boss's eye. He didn't really want to think about what that meant. Besides, she could take care of herself.

Kate looked at Yuri. "You can leave now."

Xander and Kate started walking towards the car. He stopped after a moment, then turned around. Yuri was still there. "One more thing."

The one-eyed man made a V with the index and middle fingers of his right hand and jammed it into his throat to either side of his Adam's apple. He pointed at the Russian, a slight smirk on his face. "Catch you later."

Without saying another word, Xander turned around and walked quickly to Kate, who had stopped and watched Xander's little goodbye.

"What was that about?" the police detective asked, as they started walking again.

"Think of it as flipping the bird." Xander said, as they reached the car. He pulled out a small flashlight out of his pocket and twisted the head, turning it on. He bent down and took a look at the undercarriage, shining the light over as much as possible. No obvious bombs or wires. Then again, he hadn't planned on any. Something visible like that would be the province of amateurs and wannabes. And, Gredanko had wanted his "help," not his death. Not yet at any rate.

He leaned in closer and inspected the wheelwell closest to him. He did the same with the other three.

"Okay." Xander stood up and waited on the passenger side as she unlocked the door.

"You sure that's wise?" Kate asked, looking over the roof of the car at him. "The thing with the fingers?"

"Bastard vamp made me drink blood." Xander turned and spat onto the sidewalk. He coughed once. "You know, you can swallow a pint of blood before you get sick? Got that one out of Fight Club. Wouldn't recommend it though. That ounce was enough."

With his left hand he carefully scrapped at the finger tips of his right hand, making sure that the thin latex film he had laid over his own prints were off. Xander rubbed his fingers together, making sure that the adhesive was completely off of his hands. He stuck two fingers into his mouth and as down his throat as he could stand. Pressing down, he waited until he felt the urge to gag, and then went with it.

Xander made sure he removed his fingers before vomiting the blood that was in his stomach, feeling it burn on its way up. The light dinner he had eaten also came with it. He coughed again, and spat. The aftertaste was even worse than it had been going down.

Kate looked disgusted, but didn't say anything.

Xander wiped his hand on his pant, making sure it was dry before opening the door.

"Give me a sec," Xander said, he pulled out his shoulder bag. He flipped the top open and reached inside, pulling out a small black box with a small extendable antenna. He pulled it to its full height and turned it on.

"What's that?" Kate asked, as she watched him walk all along the car, playing the box all over the car.

"You know, just one of those little things they give you when you join a federal agency. Bug detector, that type of thing," Xander said, as he collapsed the antenna and shoved it back into his bag. He got in the car and set the bag on the seat, not closing the door. He pulled out a small bottle out of the front pocket and twisted the top off. He leaned out and poured the bleach onto the contents of his stomach. With the other mixes inside, along with the blood, it would be impossible to get a good sample. He sealed the bottle and placed it back in his bag.

She got in the car and started the engine as he closed the door. She glanced at the sideview mirror and then pulled out, making an illegal u-turn in the middle of the street.

She drove for a couple of blocks before glancing at Xander. "Feel okay?"

"Like I just puked up my guts." Xander looked at her. "So why didn't you say anything in there?"

Kate shrugged. "Guess it seemed like it was your show."

"Fair enough." Xander looked out the window. "About what you expected?"

"Not really," Kate admitted.

Xander thought about it. "What did you think it would be? A guy in a bad suit stroking a cat? Maybe a monocle? Sharks with frickin' lasers on their heads."

"I don't know. But, not something like that," Kate replied. "Not the monster he would appear to be."

"Altogether too human. Works the other way around too." Xander turned to her. "The slayers have something of an advantage by looking like snackfood. You really think that what's on the surface always reflects what's on the inside?"

"He's probably still going to send at least one of his guys out to keep track of us. He's not going to rely on just you," Kate said, after a moment. "As impressive as you are."

"No doubt," Xander said, still looking out the window as the streetlights went by. "Let's go home."

"What now?" Yuri asked, as Vasily finished his preliminary report. The serial numbers on the man's guns had been carefully destroyed. Not even microscopic traces were left. The woman's checked out as those belonging to Kate Lockely. The fingerprints would take longer. Nothing showed up in a quick search of the local fingerprint databases. An IAFIS search would take longer.

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"Follow them." Anton turned to face one of his most trusted lieutenants. "See that they accomplish their mission. All of it."

"He was packing silver," Yuri said. "I don't have a good feeling about this."

"He knows the rumors," Anton spoke. He leaned back in his chair. "He came prepared, that's all. A careful man."

Yuri nodded in agreement. "Anything else?"

"No," The Russian boss waved a hand, sending his man out. He turned to the other man in the room. "Vasily, find me everything you can about this man. Who he knows. Who he talks to. Who he fucks. His friends. His family. I want to know. The woman as well."

Vasily nodded, and then turned on his heel and left the office.

Anton Gredanko sat in the empty room. He thought about going home, if only to be with his still distraught wife and children. The Russian mobster closed his eyes and rubbed his hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. He whispered, "balvan, why wouldn't you let me protect you."

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a set of keys. Standing up, he prepared to go home.

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Author's Note: Probably the last chapter till after the new year's, though I think some of the latter chapters might need a little revising. The plot slowed down a bit, but it should pick up now. Thanks for the reviews.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter 6: T.I.A.**

"I've got something," Paul spoke into his headset. He looked up slightly from his lookout position, keeping his head lowered as much as possible. He was sitting in a slouch, back curved like it had been bent down by the weight of the world. That or a forty of Thunderbird. He was in plain sight; seated in the doorway of an abandoned building across the street from the cheap motel that Maugham had rented a room in. The man had dressed to the occasion. Ratty clothes. Dirt on his faces and hands. And messed up shoes. One of the things that tended to be forgotten. They looked dirty, but if need be, they wouldn't slow him down.

Of course, underneath he still had his kit on him, modified to go along with his less than noble appearance. No sword, but he had taken some other tools that he would or might need in his scout position. Especially out in the cold like he was. Physically and metaphorically.

Paul shifted his left arm under the threadbare blanket he had covered himself with. He brought up the small black camera lens he was palming and started to play it over the scene in front of him. It didn't look like much, but the vehicle in front of him did match the make of one of the cars that had been seen more than once on the videos from the traffic cameras outside of Frankal's apartment building.

As the camera recorded and transmitted its imagery to a monitor in Cindy's car as well as one back in the hotel room they were using as a base of operations, Paul readied his weapon. He was still across the street, but he could see the people in the front of the black panel van that had pulled up on the street. Without any supernatural help, he couldn't make out their faces, but it was two men at any rate. They were dressed in dark clothes, not the best, but hardly something that would let them blend into the neighborhood. Working clothes most likely.

"Got it," Cindy replied over the communications link. She glanced out of the windshield of the van she was currently seated. The other van had parked just up the street in an empty spot in front of the motel room. It was already dusk and getting darker by the minute. If it was a strike team intent on getting at Maugham, they'd likely wait until night. There wasn't anybody on the street currently, but every so often there were a few. The innocent and the not so innocent. Nobody that those in the van wanted to have witness what was coming at any rate.

Vi leaned in to look at the monitor, Cindy moving slightly to allow Vi a better look. She grabbed her comlink as well. "See if you can zoom in, Paul. Xander's going to want to try for an ID."

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"Alright, stop there," Xander said, waiting until the image stopped moving. He clicked the mouse when the man was clear. It captured a screenshot of the image that was streaming over the channel they were using. It wasn't the best shot, and a side profile, but it would be something to work off. He snapped a few others as well. Only the driver was fully visible unfortunately, but it was something at the very least. They didn't seem all that suspicious, but it was still rather out of the ordinary. Worth checking out.

He looked up at the rest of the team. "Guys, get your stuff together, we need to get down there. I got a feeling this is it."

Curtis nodded and walked into his bedroom to grab his bag. Jack followed as well.

He shrunk the video feed down and opened up a simple graphics program. A little bit of manipulation and doubling and he had a quick and dirty image of a front facial shot. Xander opened a socket to the Level 6 server and ran it through the facial recognition program that was housed there. It would run a search of a database that included all the known players. It was by no means complete, and was mostly cobbled together from the archives from what some of the other governments were willing to share as well as some of the old Council files, but it would be a good place to start. Logistically speaking, there should have been an IT tech back at headquarters to run the search for him, but they didn't have the personnel for that yet. The reqs were in the loop, but like most things government, it would take some time before they could find the right people with the right security clearances and mindsets. At least the program was user friendly.

Xander glanced up for a moment as Curtis and Jack walked back into the main room. They would try to reach the motel room as quickly as possible, but given the traffic it would still take a bit of time. They should get there before it got completely dark however.

He glanced over at the woman next to him. She had been there mostly just hanging out after her shift. Though he personally thought that it was also to keep an eye on him. "Kate, I'm going to need you to direct Paul to give you whatever shots he can get of the people in that van.

Xander leaned closer and pointed at what was on the screen. He worked the computer as he directed, making sure that he changed the security setting so that Kate didn't have full access to the computer network. "Click that to copy it, and then run in through this. After that, copy and paste it to this program here, and just press go here. I got the search patterns set up as a preset, so it'll automatically use that as the database. It should run okay. I'll be on the com, if you have any questions. Don't run anything else, there are locks on the system to prevent hacking and I've set up limited access. Keystrokes are on, so don't get cute. You got it?"

Kate nodded, not feeling that offended by the measures. "Good luck."

She would have wanted to go with them, but at the present moment it was just as important to see if they could get anything on the identities of the people in question. Besides, given the amount of people that could be in the van, as well as Xander and his own team with the advantage of surprise, she wasn't all that worried about who would win in a fight.

Well, not all that worried.

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"It looks like they're going to move," Paul mumbled into his radio. He had been watching them for the past fifteen minutes. According to Cindy, they hadn't set up any magical precautions, but it didn't mean that they weren't packing more than just a slayer. Of course, with the multitude of uncommon slayer traits appearing more and more frequently given the population explosion, only a cursory mystical scan could be performed directly on the subjects. That wasn't even considering the usage of a magic user that simply couldn't or didn't set up some type of detection spell. While combined arms doctrine hadn't exactly made it to the supernatural world, many had seen the benefits of using more than solely muscle and the odd bit of flying metal. "We need to act soon."

"Alright," Xander said into his headset. He had had Curtis park the car away from the street in question, out of sight of the target van as well as the other members of his team. He finished making a few lines on the map he was holding, making sure the fields of fire wouldn't overlap unexpectedly. It was quick and dirty, but it was fairly coherent.

Looking up, Xander watched as Paul and Curtis started to finish putting on their gear. "Give me a sitrep."

"Verified slayer. Five men," Cindy said, from her position. She was still looking at the van, only looking down to check the monitor. There was no visible movement from her angle, but she knew that a couple had gotten out on the other side. They were visible on the screen that she had in her car, fed from the cameras that had previously been mounted during earlier recons. "Clustered at the car. It looks like they're going through their final checks."

Xander drew five X's on his map based on their current positions by the van. He quickly calculated and drew a few lines connecting the O's he had drawn earlier.

"Vi, we getting anything from Maugham?" Xander asked. He checked his PDA; so far there was nothing from Kate about any matches to the facial search. He unbuckled his own seatbelt and started to pull on the rest of his gear.

"No. He's just been watching TV and pacing this whole time," Vi spoke, from her elevated position on the roof of a building across the street. She had taken the time when it had started to get dark to make her journey from the car to the building, setting up a few positions to keep track of things.

"Good." Xander finished strapping on his armor, checking to make sure it covered the right areas. "Get your stuff together and get to your perch. Let me know when you're in position."

"Okay," Vi put down her laser mike and shoved it back in its holder. She got up carefully, though only to a crouch and made her way to the corner of the building. She made sure she wasn't visible from the street below. Without being visible from the ground below she had been able to monitor Maugham's actions as well as be ready to cover the team if the attack came from the front. She wouldn't want to screw up the element of surprise now.

She took the cover off of a rifle. It was painted matte black so that it wouldn't reflect any light. From the distance she was at, a normal shooter would have used a scope. In this case, most likely a Kern 4x24. Vi, on the other hand, had forgone that particular piece of technology on the Sig 550. She put a hand up to her throat and spoke softly into the microphone. "I'm in position."

Curtis heard the voice through his earpiece. He looked to his right at Xander. "How are we playing this?"

Xander glanced down at the monitor in the car. It was currently playing over what Paul could pick up on his camera. In the top corners were the same views from the other cameras that Cindy could see too.

The team leader made sure that the other two men were paying attention. He turned the map around and showed it to the other two men. "Pull out the badges. We go in through here, declare ourselves the police, and get them to give themselves up. We follow this route through the middle of the street. Less cover than I would have liked, but we can't have everything. Paul covers us from the side. A little artillery keeps their heads down, and we got Cindy flying backup."

"Paul's out of position." Jack stated, as he looked over the diagram. "He'd have to come around the back if he needs to provide covering fire. And, there's potential crossfire problems there. There's the front, but that puts him in the same line as us."

"Unfortunate, but it'd be too suspicious if he moved now." Curtis said, as he slotted the magazine into his submachine gun. He pulled his own mask down as Jack finished readying his weapon. "Playing this by ear?"

"Really rather not." Xander stated. He looked down at the map again. "Best we can do given what we got."

"Ye know, Vi's got the heavy up there," Jack stated, as he adjusted his mask. "I'm thinking a base of fire while we advance beneath. Would keep their slayer down while we rush in and get into position. Make it easier to get them to give up."

"Right. Of course, that would be sending a lot of lead into the middle of the street right in front of a semi-inhabited building. We aren't in Africa anymore, broham. And that van ain't a technical." Xander glared at the Irish mercenary. "Besides, we're looking for someone to question here. Hard to do that with corpses. Necromancy not withstanding. Takes too long. Let's see here, slayer and maybe watchers. They reckon they're the good guys, I bet. We act the part of the fuzz, and they'll be more likely to surrender. Hopefully."

"And, if they aren't so willing to give up?" Jack questioned, pulling out a police badge on a chain and putting it over his head. "I'd want more than just your word to God."

"Then we do what we gotta. We never made any promises to take them alive." Xander said, as he did the same.

"Better them than us, no?" Jack remarked.

"You know it," Xander said, with a wry smile. It was covered by his mask though. He looked around outside the windows, making sure it was clear and then opened the car door. He took a moment to relay his commands to the rest of his team.

After he had finished he looked at the two men before him. Dressed in black with face masks and helmets they looked like part of a SWAT team. Enough to pass as such in the night of course.

"You guys know the map." Xander said, as he put on his own helmet." You got your designated targets. Let's do this."

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Xander peeked around the corner. Though it was dark, there was a single streetlamp that hadn't been burnt out or broken near the entrance of the motel. The light was dim, but he could see the group of people that were preparing to enter the building.

Five men, one woman. Dressed in heavy black, like them. Probably meant body armor, similar to what they were wearing. Only the woman and one of the men appeared to be armed now. The woman had a short sword strapped to her back; the man had a pump action shotgun with him. Evidently, they had switched from the bows or crossbows they had used in the sewer tunnel. Though considering that the Russian had run and had nearly gotten away, they were probably looking to increase their chances of success. They learned.

Xander stared at one of them for a moment. Brown hair, a scruffy beard. Not much else could be made out from the distance, but he seemed familiar. But, he'd met too many people over the last couple of years to be able to identify him immediately.

He keyed his mike. "Cover shotgun. I want him down if things get hot. I got the slayer."

"Roger that," came the response into his ear.

"Okay, let's do this." Xander said, stepping out into the street. He pulled his weapon into position, laser sight turned on, but pointed down. He looked at them as closely as he could without disrupting his concentration. If they were running as a full crew they would have a spell slinger somewhere in the mix. In addition to a bunch more guns, even if out of sight. Of course, that would have been the smart thing to do. Something that the Watchers of old weren't that good at. Then again, these ones had survived past the slaughter and had enough foresight to stay out of the limelight.

The six people in front of the motel didn't notice until the three men were in the middle of the street. Three laser sights pointed at them.

"Police! You, drop the gun. Now!" Xander shouted at the man with the shotgun. He didn't turn his head though, and made sure his own weapon was still covering the woman. From the closer position he could make out what she looked like. "The rest of you, arms up. And, don't even move."

The man with the pump action hesitated. What was happening was not part of the plan at all. They were supposed to be in and hit the specified number of targets and then leave. Then one had led to others, and those led to witnesses. It was all spiraling out of control. And, to think that he had never had any field experience before he had been tasked for this. He wasn't sure he was fit for it anymore, if he had ever been. Long way from the aisles of the library.

"You have no idea what is going on," the man with the beard stated. He didn't move from his spot though, simply raised his hands slightly.

The man to his right, blonde, with an equally scruff beard shifted slightly. He looked at the three men in masks and dark helmets. Their body armor looked like they were police issue, and their appearance had not been expected. They had taken precautions to ensure that they would not be found out, and that any loose ends were cut off. Clearly it had fallen apart somewhere. Gaither closed his eyes, gathering the energy within himself.

He was one of the mages from the Council that had gone to ground when the First had started to cull the ranks. He opened his eyes again, the whites of them turning black. He prepared to cast out a wave of telekinetic energy. Much more subtle than a fireball or a coerced explosion, and much less power intensive.

He raised his left hand carefully, directing the energy there-

Curtis pulled the trigger of his MP5, sending a three round burst into the forehead of the blonde man.

"Didn't think we didn't know what was up?" Xander questioned loudly. "Don't try that bullshit with me. I will down you, motherfucker! And, if your boy over there doesn't drop his gun in the next two seconds, he's going to be the next corpse on the street. One."

"Tommy, drop the shotgun," the leader said, inclining his head to his left. While he had just seen the murder of one of his better men, he could still salvage the situation. Likely they had seen the movement and had assumed it was a move towards a weapon.

As long as the police were unknowledgeable of the slayer, they stood a chance. Likely the SWAT team was just there to roust some drug dealer when they came across a group openly carrying guns. As if that wasn't something of a common sight on the streets of America.

Tommy hesitated again.

"Do it," the leader snapped irately.

Tommy lowered his arm and let the gun hit the floor.

"Okay," Xander said, in a calm voice. "C, search and cuff. J, cover."

Xander took a sidestep to his left, making sure he kept everyone covered. He watched as the group was split between watching him move and the other two.

Curtis slung his weapons, reaching for a pair of handcuffs. While the people they were holding at gunpoint watched the guns, he reached to his side and quickly snapped up a dart gun. He had the trigger half-pulled before it had left its holster, laser sight flicking on. It hovered over the center of the slayer's chest for less than a second before the trigger was pressed all the way.

The slayer never saw it coming, having concentrated on the leader of the trio. One of the two who had been carrying a weapon, and the most antagonistic. "Wha-"

She hit the ground, not having made out the word.

"Stop!" Xander shouted, as the man with the scruffy beard started to go for something at his back. "I know about your slayers. Your magicks. And I'm guessing you're watchers. Don't even think about starting something with your main weapon down."

"Then you know that you should not stop us," the leader took a step forward. He looked down dispassionately at the downed slayer. "What did you hit her with?"

"Horse tranq." Xander said, his voice muffled by the mask. He wondered if that was a purely professional inquiry, or if the watcher actually cared about the well-being of his charge. "We're going to do this again. I know she was your ace and you had to try, but you try anything now, and I'll fucking cut your balls off. Cuffs now."

The men didn't resist after that.

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"Paul, bring the van around." Xander said into his radio. He looked at the men seated on the curb, hands cuffed tightly behind their backs. "Vi exfil out, head to Point Baker. We'll meet up there."

"Xander, you got incoming," Cindy said, into her radio quickly. "They're coming in fast."

Xander turned around, bringing his weapon up and moving towards his right towards cover, as Curtis and Jack went to their left.

A late model sedan squealed around the corner and screeched to a halt right before the people seated on the sidewalk. Of course, that didn't exactly make them hard targets. Submachine gun fire opened up, bursts of flame lit up the night sky. The noise was nearly deafening.

While most drive-bys tended to hit less targets and more other stuff, like bystanders, this one didn't. All of the tightly grouped bursts of fire hit the three men that were visible from the car's location. Luckily, the slayer and one of the men were blocked by the black van in front of the motel.

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"Crap," Vi muttered, as she turned back at the noise of the car. She grabbed the M249 that had been resting next to the rifle she as packing up and brought it up over the lip of the roof. She braced herself as she went full automatic. The car was torn into shreds as 100 rounds of the 200 round box magazine ripped through the top of the vehicle. She made sure to group enough bullets into the all of the places people could be shooting from. Anybody in there should be dead.

Jack had found it amusing that she had insisted on bringing the M249 Para to her nest along with the Sig and a sidearm. Of course, she was using it now to save their butts, so he would have to eat those words.

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"Curtis, check the prisoners," Xander said, into his comlink. "Jack, take the left. I got right. Paul, check the other side. On my mark. Cindy, give me a quick scan."

"Nothing alive I can sense," the witch said, after a moment. "Clear it."

"Let's go," Xander said, as he came around the back of the large power box he had taken cover behind.

He stayed in a crouch, and carefully approached from the left. Jack shadowed him on the right. Both of them were angled to direct their fire away from Paul, who was approaching from the center from the other side of the street.

"Clear," Paul said, as he looked inside of the blown out windows from the passenger side.

"Same here," Jack stated, as he looked at what remained of the driver.

"Okay," Xander said, letting his gun slide behind him on its sling. He reached into a pouch and pulled out a mini video recorder. He flicked on the light and started to record what he could from the inside of the blown out car. Xander used his gloved hand to pull down collars and slide up sleeves. "Paul, we need the evidence kits. They're in my bag. It's in the front seat."

Paul ran off to get what was asked for.

"What now?" Curtis asked, over the radio.

"Pack up, and get those prisoners secured. Pictures of the bodies; then we need to take them with us. Leave one, but take fingerprints. DNA samples. Strip him as well as you can for identifying marks. I want shots of that too. Cops are going to be here soon, so move fast," Xander said. He heard the faint sounds of sirens heading his way. Maybe not from the first shots, but definitely after the car drove up and turned the street into a shooting gallery. "Let's move it, people. Time's a wasting."

"Cindy, pull up, we need to get the bodies loaded. Bake the car right before we leave, I don't anybody to know exactly what went down. Jack, take their car, drive it back to Baker, we need to toss it for anything we can use and then dispose of it," Xander commanded, as Paul got back. He took his pack from the homeless looking man.

"Got it," Cindy replied, getting ready to cast the spell. A projection of a near mini-sun in the heart of the shot out car. It would render any evidence useless in its heat. But, it would take a moment to set it up.

Xander opened up his shoulder bag and pulled out a couple of small evidence kits and tossed one to Curtis, and then one to Paul. He kept one for himself and started going over the car that was lying in the middle of the street. Paul helped him on the other side.

He spent less than a minute on it. "I got what I need. Let's go."

"Maugham?" Paul asked, as he finished up. He helped Curtis load the rest of the bodies into the van that Cindy had pulled up.

"Let Gredanko take care of him," Xander said, shoving the small evidence baggies and vials back into the kit. He placed that back into his shoulder bag. "We got other things to worry about."

One of which was if anybody would be following them on their way out.

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"That's Russian prison issue," Curtis said, as they watched the playback of the video. He froze the screen. "Gredanko you think?"

"Yeah. Who else would send a Russian crew after those guys?" Xander replied. He glanced over to the side. The live prisoners had been brought to the abandoned warehouse. It would serve as a temporary holding facility until they figured out what to do. "Not enough faces left. Nothing identifiable. Too bad. Then again, it's better than the alternative."

"Was he after you?" Kate asked. She had seen the operation go down on the multiple video feeds she had been able to pull up on the computer. She had tried snooping around as carefully as she could under the pretext of not being familiar with the system, but had managed access to nothing but the facial recognition program and the video. What she saw on the camera feeds was rather astounding.

"I doubt it," Xander said, looking at the detective. "Gredanko wouldn't have let us go if he wasn't going to use us. Finding out where we could find the killers couldn't be everything. He couldn't have been assured of getting everyone I was working with by hitting me after we just finished up. There has to be something else. Something else he wants."

"Which meant that they were following us for a while now too," Curtis said, stopping the video playback. "They could have visuals of all of us by now."

"Maybe," Xander frowned. "But, nothing that close. I don't see how. We weren't followed after we left his place from close up. And, I don't think there was anybody tailing us around anytime else that would give them anything they can use aside from our appearances. And the usual databases are already sanitized. It's not like he's going to be able to pull anything from the DMV."

"He'll still be looking for us then," Curtis leaned back. "How do you think they found us there then?"

"They could have found your demon bait," Kate interjected. "Staked him out until the group showed up. Maybe waited until after you took them down to move in. That was pretty much your plan."

Xander thought about it. He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

"What do we do now?" Curtis asked.

"We have to give one of them up," Xander stated. "We need one for information, but Jurgen's going to need one as an example to his people."

"Execution. Which one ye think will give us the most information?" Jack said, from his position covering the prisoners. They were currently asleep. Cindy had cast a deep sleep spell on them that would keep them under until needed.

"Crew setup like that, slayer is just muscle. Keep her drugged, manageable, and give her up to Downbelow. I'll handle that," Xander said. "Curtis, close up shop, set the guy up for interrogation at a facility. Keep working the identification. I know this guy. I need to know from where. Database didn't get us anything. I think we're going to have to use some of our contacts to check out hard copies. There's still quite a bit that aren't on our computers."

"What about Gredanko?" Curtis questioned. "We have to give him something. He ain't going to be satisfied with a drive-by. Not with that hit team dead."

"Techs are still checking the sword," Xander replied. "If that bears out as the murder weapon for Frankal we got a confirmation for Omic. We can do the same thing for the stuff we found at their hideout. They had a couple of crossbows in their stash. We check the wounds on Lamanov's body to the bolts Vi and Cindy found there. It'll have to satisfy the both of them."

"You think it will?" Curtis wasn't exactly convinced. In his experience, men who hired killers to work a hit on the murderer of a family member, even if he wasn't blood, wasn't going to be satisfied by a report saying that the murder weapon had been identified. And, that it had been in the possession of the most likely suspects.

"After he almost got me killed?" Xander raised his eyebrows, as he looked at his partner. "It's all I'm giving him."

"This is what it comes down to?" Kate asked, though in her heart, she really didn't have it in her anymore to argue the morality of it all. "You're going to let that girl, who can't possibly be older than 16 be executed, and are going to take that other guy somewhere for what I can't imagine to be particularly legal."

"You look defeated." Xander said, looking at Kate. He glanced over at Curtis. "Get the stuff together. I want to move soon."

He turned back to the policewoman, looking her in the eyes. "Look, in a previous life I'd probably feel the exact same way that you do right now. But, you need to understand that this isn't what your police academy was thinking of when they trained you up to be a cop. This is the real life. Look, I was bouncing in the dunes a while back. Probably better if you don't know the exact location. I was working, you know. Harsh stuff. No rules out there. Just what you gotta do to stay alive. Be surprised at what you're willing to do when it comes to that. Anyways, one of the guys I ran with for a while, he's dead now, but, uh, he had this saying. T.I.A. This. Is. Africa. And, baby, we're still fucking there. You either accept that this is the way that things go, or you don't. And, if you don't, then you got to decide. You got to decide if you're going to take me down. Try to take me down, anyways. Or you decide to walk away. And let this eat you alive. Cause of all the victims you'd be walking away from."

Kate just looked back at him. Right in his eye.

"Honestly, don't go down that road." Xander still met her gaze and kept it. "You're a damn fine cop. And, the people out there on the street, they need you. They need you, to be a cop. Just as they need me, not to be one."

Kate closed here eyes, and nodded. It would be the last time.

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"Take off," Xander told Vi, as they stood in the empty parking lot. With the wide open space, there was nobody watching them. "You have classes your neglecting, and all I got left is to follow up on a couple of things. I can handle the rest from here."

"I don't know. You still got the Russian on you." Vi frowned. "The slayer's taken care of, but not everything is finished."

Xander glanced at the rest of his team standing away from them, but behind Vi. Kate was there as well. "I know, but I want you gone. If Gredanko is trying to get a handle on us, then it's better to work this alone. So you're all gone, I can handle the rest of the op on my own."

"Stay safe." Vi said, gripping his arm.

"For you," Xander replied, leaning in and brushing his lips over her own.

He watched for a moment as the team got into their vehicles and left. Kate in her car back to her precinct. Curtis, Jack, and Cindy to deliver their package to a holding facility for processing. Vi and Paul back home. To class, and other things.

"Safe," Xander whispered to no one. "What a concept."

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"What's the latest on the reporter?" Xander said into his cell phone as he waited for the taxi to pull up to his destination.

He listened in on the latest on the whereabouts and activities of the dynamic journalist duo that was trying to find him and make him famous.

It didn't take that long. Luckily, Arizona had been mostly a dead end. The usage of the particular airstrip he had used, and the lack of a town to investigate hadn't given up much. Still Ray Cusack was nothing if not tenacious.

"We need to act on this soon," Xander spoke into the phone. "Get me authorization to work a meet. Let me know how it goes. Alright. Alright. Thanks."

He closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket as he stepped out of the car. He gave the driver the fare and a generous tip.

Xander looked up at the building he was standing in front of him. It was the office building of Armelin International Group. He walked inside and up to the receptionist at the front desk.

She smiled somewhat brightly up at the man in the suit, as was her job. With the suit, the eye patch made him seem rather fetching, and dangerous in a good way. "What can I do for you?"

"I have an appointment with Mr. Richmond," Xander told the receptionist. "It's under Hamilton."

She looked down at her computer and brought up the schedule for the vice president of Crisis Management at AIG. She verified the appointment and looked up at the man again. Somehow, the pretty young woman was able to smile even more brightly at the young man. "It'll be just a moment, Mr. Hamilton, if you would like to take a seat over there."

"Thanks," Xander replied, smiling back. He walked over to the couches in the front lobby.

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"What can I do for you, Mr. Hamilton?" Mr. Richmond, said. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the young man in front of him. As the vice president, he rarely ever met clients directly. Or in this case, would be clients. That wasn't his job. They had salesmen and other agents to do those tasks. Especially for someone so young, and despite the expensive suit, not one of his own type of people. However, this was a special request from one of their best man. Someone that they owed.

"I'm told that you offer the best K and R policies around," Xander spoke. "I find myself in the need of one."

"Of course," Mr. Richmond said, unsure of why he had been asked to conduct this exact meeting. "But, I'm sure that one of our associates would be able to handle the details of that better than I."

"I'm aware of that line of reasoning, sir. But, I'm not exactly looking for the standard package," Xander said, as he checked out the man. It wasn't exactly what he would have expected for the particular line of insurance, though he had met the type before. Businessman. Not the type that worked themselves up from nothing, but someone that had had the silver spoon the whole life. The closest he probably ever got to danger was reading a report on what happened to those people that worked for the companies that his firm had as clients in far off countries. "Mr. Brigg, he informed me of some of the special packages you offer for your clients."

"And you know him, how?" Mr. Richmond asked, trying to draw as much information as he could from the enigmatic man. He hadn't been given many details when he had been asked to conduct the meeting on such short term.

"We worked together. I'm sure a little job in Benin was brought up amongst your management," Xander stated, calmly.

"Ah," Mr. Richmond's face paled considerably at that explanation. "So what exactly are you looking for, Mr. Hamilton?"

"I want a policy on a particular woman," Xander replied.

"A wife?" Mr. Richmond questioned.

"Irrelevant at this point." Xander brushed off the question. He leaned closer across the desk at the man. "If anything were to happen to her, I want absolutely everything done to ensure her safe return. Alive. And untouched. I'm not talking about indemnity. I can get there anywhere. I'm talking about everything. And, when I say absolutely everything, I mean absolutely everything. Legal and, you know. Everything. How much?"

"That's a fifteen million dollar policy." Mr. Richmond gulped at the serious gaze of the younger man in front of him. "The premiums alone on that-"

"Money. It's irrelevant." Xander shook his head, as he interrupted. "I just need to know that if the need comes up, that there will be the necessary response team mobilized for as long as it takes. And, if the need for that particular type of crisis management comes up, heaven forbid, then Mr. Brigg leads the team."

"I'm sure that can be arranged." Mr. Richmond replied, after a moment to gather himself.

"Better be," Xander stated. "Now, what are the details?"

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Xander laid the crossbow bolt on the table.

"This is it?" Anton Gredanko asked, reaching over and picking up the sharply pointed bolt. It had a short shaft, with a wickedly pointed barb. Once in flesh, it would be even more damaging to remove.

"I flipped the place they were using as a base. This comes from the same type as was used on your brother in law," Xander explained. He leaned back in his seat in front of the Russian's desk. "They had documents linking them to your brother in law as well. Amongst others. That's pretty much as much confirmation as you're ever going to get."

"And the men responsible?" Gredanko inquired, placing the crossbow bolt back on the desk.

"Dead," Xander stated simply. "Of course, you already knew that."

"Did I?" Gredanko replied calmly, looking Xander in the eye.

Xander shrugged. "You should really be more careful. I mean, using guys with Russian gang tats is surely not the best way to remain inconspicuous."

"Things aren't the way they used to be," Gredanko had a hint of a smile on his face. "Not everyone with those types of tattoos work for me or others like me."

Xander nodded slightly. He didn't think he would get a confirmation. But, some reaction would have been nice. "Yeah, except I was able to ID one of them. He was yours. So why don't you stop playing coy and tell me what the hell you think you were doing? You had Maugham, you coulda taken him and them without me. Or at least given me the heads up about him."

"He was better served as bait," Gredanko answered. "Which is what you used him for as well. And, after you had finished your bit, I stepped in to take care of business. My men would have served as backup if you were not up to the task."

"Right, from that distance," Xander shook his head. "If you're expecting any type of cooperation from me then you're going to need to tell me the truth."

"Your involvement with slayers intrigues me," the Russian said. "You work with one, and all the evidence that I saw pointed towards the theory that the likely assassin was one as well. Or at least one was involved. I needed to know exactly how things stood with someone of your obvious reputation."

"So you were keeping information from me, then." Xander said, not really asking a question.

"Only information that I obtained after I learned what you were doing. You were keeping things to yourself as well," Gredanko rebuked.

"That's my business. I don't work for you, remember?" Xander asked. "What you know about me, is that I am utterly competent. I work with who I want, and I work for who I want. So why exactly would you think that I would simply give you everything I had?"

"Then work for me now. You are very very good. You and your team. And, you obviously have resources that I do not. If you have more than one slayer on tap…" Gredanko trailed off. He looked at the lack of reaction that Xander gave him. "Alright, I can make sure that such resources are well utilized. And, well taken care of. They would all be more than comfortable in my employ."

"All the caviar and vodka they could have?" Xander thought about the offer. It wasn't completely unforeseen. He knew that a number of slayers, especially in less than developed countries, had taken part in the protection business. Some of them for legitimate reasons, some simply for the money. "And, let me guess, you got all sorts of handsome young rich men that would love to try their hand at taming a slayer. I've heard the same thing before. The answer's no."

"Maybe that's something that they should be answering?" Gredanko asked, ignoring the rather final nature of the response.

"Maybe so, but we're done here. You got what you want, and things are as good as they're going to get between us." Xander looked at the Russian, trying to read him. He made sure his own expression matched the coldness of the one in front of him. He tried to make it as menacing as he could, though he couldn't be sure how well he had succeeded. "There are other sources of slayers than me. If you could even consider me one. Try there. I ain't some pimp. And I sure as hell ain't going to start trafficking muscle for you."

He stood up abruptly, noticing that Yuri tensed slightly. That was a good sign. It meant that they took him seriously. "Don't look for me again."

"Not quite yet," Gredanko called after him. "I want to be able to reach you again. In case I have work for you."

"Okay. And, the reason I'd be willing to do that is, what?" Xander questioned. "What you got on me this time? My parents? Friends? My Tuesday night regular hooker?"

Gredanko pulled a file that was resting on his desk and opened it up, displaying the contents for Xander to see. "Take a look."

Xander took a step forward and looked down at them. He wasn't exactly surprised at what he was seeing, though that wasn't any sort of comfort.

The file contained pictures. Of him. And, of some of the members of his team. And, a certain member that was only a substitute. Nothing suspicious was present in them. All professional. That was a small consolation.

"High angle. Night shots. Telephoto lens. Good quality," Xander remarked. He tried to identify the backgrounds, trying to figure out where they had been followed and had not noticed. It was New York. At nights. In crowds. There were ways, but none that wouldn't carry a price that he wouldn't have wanted his witch to pay quite yet. He had needed her at full power for the strike. It wasn't a failing, so much as a danger that was always present. Couldn't really be helped. "Your pet vampire here take them?"

Gredanko merely shrugged.

"Right. Fine. Let's play it your way." Xander reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He tossed it onto the desk. The paper slid forward, coming to a stop in front of the Russian mobster. "Take a look."

Gredanko eyes grew hard as he read the short grouping of words on them. It didn't contain much. Two addresses and a string of numbers.

"Private school, expensive. I suppose a man of your means can afford it." Xander smirked. "And, if you're thinking of trying to track down that bank routing code, it's not going to do you any good. Money's in escrow in the Caymans. Or was that Switzerland. Somewhere with those ultra secure banking policies. You ever think about coming after my people, and your brother in law is only the first. I don't have to do anything. Something happens, and thirty-three contracts get opened. And, these aren't the type that get fulfilled without bodies."

"You think this is over?" Gredanko asked.

"I know it is," Xander said, leaning down, hands resting in fists on the desk. "Ironically, you forgot the first rule of this business. You never go after family. Not if you have one of your own. Don't ever come looking for me. I'm not some white knight that helped you out cause it was the right thing to do. Matter of fact, I think you're scum. Powerful scum that keeps the streets as clean as possible, and is a necessary evil, but scum nonetheless."

"We're more alike than you might want to admit to yourself," Gredanko replied, not bothering to respond to the insult.

"Maybe so. Maybe so. But, that doesn't mean I have to like it." Xander stood up straight and turned around. He started for the exit, but stopped halfway there. He turned his head slightly. "Forget what I look like. Forget what my people look like. Remember, don't ever find me."

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Author's Note: It's been a while. Just haven't found the time. Seems like the stats for this story are much less than for my previous one. I wonder if that's common.


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter 7: The Jugglers**

"Director Grainer, please stand and raise your right hand," said Chairman Sutherland, as if by rote. She had headed a number of subcommittees in her time, but this one in particular gave her and was giving her the most headache. Still, it was probably more important than all of the rest combined. Unfortunately, the meetings that they were having on the subjects were becoming increasingly greater in frequency.

While the latest budget increase had already been approved, there were still questions that the people in charge wanted answered. Answered and on the, classified, record. Especially with the current political structure as it was. The current administration, whatever it may at any given point of time, always had its detractors. And, its share of dirty little secrets. That this particular one had so recently become so active was of particular concern to those that were looking to stay as incumbents. The expenses that were being sunk into the project were adding up quickly, and nobody wanted to be left behind to pay the bill. While sinking billions of dollars into experimental programs wasn't strictly unheard of, they didn't usually result in full on military strikes on American soil. And, have such a high risk of being caught without a proper, and authorized, justification.

Charles Grainer did as he was asked and stood up. He was calm, having been through a number of these, even before he had attained directorship of his current agency. Still, a small part of him was worried.

"Do you swear that the testimony that you are about to give is the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" asked the chairman of the House subcommittee.

"I do." Grainer nodded.

"You may sit," Chairman Sutherland indicated toward the man's seat in the large conference room. For the current meeting, she and her associates were seated in their legislative positions, with Director Grainer sitting at a heavy wooden table in front of them. Alone. "For the record, please state your name and occupation."

"My name is Charles Grainer, and am currently the director for Level 6," Grainer replied as he was asked.

"Thank you, Director," Sutherland said, opening up one of the files that she had brought with her. "The formation of said agency and its development have already been covered and will be summarized in the final report. Now, for the purpose of this inquiry, please explain to us the events that led to and the outcome of Operation White Sands?"

"Yes, Madame Chairman," Director Grainer responded. He took a moment to gather his thoughts; the only sound in the room came from the person taking the dictation. "It started approximately six months ago with the identification and subsequent search for Shaun Anderson, originally from England. A psychic or mage, according to the current terminology."

"Could you define that term for the Committee, director?" Representative O'Malley asked.

"Well, there isn't an official definition that we have defined in any statute, Congressman O'Malley," Grainer stated, slowly. "But, I'll try to explain."

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"So these are the guys coming from Cadre?" Xander nearly shouted into his headset. He had to struggle to be heard in the small transport helicopter.

"Yeah," David Kilmartin replied over his own headset. His own backup team had been slow in forming and had only recently gained enough personnel to start full group training. It had been something of an annoyance to have been limited to smaller missions that either wouldn't need a backup strike team or that took place while Xander's was free. In the end, Xander and his team got the more high profile operations. Still, he knew that he and his team were still starting out and that though limited, their contributions were important as well. And, while he was looking forward to some action, he knew that deep down he would prefer never having to get called out.

Xander looked down at the ground from the side of the helicopter he was sitting in. They had just passed the outer fence of the large training facility that had been set up for Level 6 use. Filled with modular buildings and other equipment segregated into discrete areas, it could be quickly transformed into whatever environment they needed to train in. While it was not the Danger Room, it could approximate the usual environments that demon hunters usually fought in nowadays.

He'd helped design parts of it, though much was simply copied from existing plans for other places. He also went over the bids from the local construction companies to help construct the thing. That was one of the reasons why it had been completed in so quick a time.

"So what happened in the city?" Kilmartin asked, glancing toward the man sitting on the opposite side of the rear section of the helicopter. They were the only passengers in the small helicopter. The only other person there was the pilot. Most of his team was already on site, though Leander had been called off for another assignment. "Get anything yet?"

"Same old," Xander looked at his counterpart. It was something of an awkward moment; the other man was at least ten years older with at least that many years police experience, yet he was the senior man in these things. "Still working on that identification. And, the other stuff we found."

He still couldn't place the face. The evidence they had been able to pull so far had yielded a false passport with no notion of its origins. It was high quality though. It had to be to be able to go through airport security without raising any flags. Still, they had been able to track him back to London. That was something of a lead. Xander had been able to place him as a watcher, but not one that could be found in the data they currently had. He didn't know anymore if it was from a picture, a sighting in some faraway country, or if it was somewhere related to the new Watchers' Council.

"That why you wanted Leander?" Kilmartin noticed that they had started their descent. From his window he could already see that the new men they were there for were already assembled in front of the field that they would be using. Kitted up and ready to go.

Xander nodded, looking out the window at the pad that they would be landing at. "Pretty much."

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Leander sat in the small café, his back against the wall. He idly took a sip of coffee as he waited for the person he was waiting for to come inside. It wasn't exactly what he wanted to do, and it had never been one of his duties when he had been employed by the CIA. Still, with the nature of the organization that he was currently in the employ of, and the limited personnel assigned that possessed the necessary skills, many had been forced to pull double duty.

Leander watched as Andrew Wells walked into the café and looked around. Their mole inside the organization did not look at all like someone comfortable with his situation. Which was good. He needed to remember who was in charge, and who was the puppet.

Leander took another sip of coffee. He had never been a case officer. He had never had to recruit and turn any assets. His skill set, while certainly effective, did not provide useable field assets in the long run. He was more adept at extracting useable intelligence from unwilling subjects; their well-being and willingness to work for his agency were not concerns. His ability to come up with product under severe timelines was noteworthy, and one of the reasons that he had been pulled out of the Agency.

Still despite the lack of experience, he knew that the young kid, especially with his current appearance, wasn't going to be much of a problem. He was too scared to be one.

The ex-Agency man said nothing as the young watcher sat down in front of him.

"I got your message," Andrew said nervously.

"No shit." Leander replied, putting his coffee cup down. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it on the table to show his guest what it was.

Andrew took it carefully and stared at it. "Who is it?"

"I never gave you permission to ask questions," Leander stated, pointedly looking at his asset. "And, put that away. Now."

Andrew quickly folded the piece of paper and put it into his pant's pocket.

"We need to know his name and whatever your organization might have on him," Leander said, quietly. "We need you to go through your archives; what hasn't been put on the old Council computer systems and transferred to your own. I mean paper. Make copies of them, color. You are to put that into this."

Leander reached beside him and picked up a small metallic case. It was thin, but would hold a number of pieces of paper. He placed it onto the table. "You put it in that case. Put it away."

He waited until Andrew pulled it into his lap.

"There's an electromagnet in the top," Leander explained, taking another sip of coffee is if they were simply two friends at a coffee shop. "There's a car a block up, the way you came from. A green Ford Taurus. License plate, GPLM 3895. Repeat that."

"Uh, GPLM 3895," Andrew repeated, making sure to say nothing else.

Leander nodded. "And that car?"

"Ford Taurus. Green," Andrew answered.

"You have two days," Leander said, draining his coffee cup. "Once you get it, you are to place everything, the original picture as well, into that case and attach it underneath the back bumper of that car. The car will be there from 1:00 pm to 5:00 pm. If it's not there, life will get very difficult for you. Remember, there will be someone monitoring the car and your whereabouts at all times. Do not try to talk to your friends about this. Do not try to get them to follow you to the drop. Do not try to find out where I am going with this. And do not try to weasel your way out of this, you will not like the consequences. Remember, you are a criminal, and are only one failed assignment away from lock up. I'm talking, federal pound me in the ass prison, as you young folks say. Do you understand me?"

Andrew just swallowed, staring at the man seated in front of him.

"You can answer that." Leander said.

The watcher just nodded.

"Very good," Leander replied. "Leave now."

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"His current training concerns us," Chairman Sutherland read the report in front of her. "I've said this before; he has no formal training before he entered your employ. With his missions getting significantly more dangerous, I'm concerned that he may not be able to handle them professionally. The stakes are too high to simply let him run loose because you can't reign him in."

"Official training, Madame Chairman," Director Grainer added. "He has practical experience, both gained and gifted. And, it was his own request to undergo the structured learning that you yourself approved. He is as trained as any other man you could have lead his team. Though I dare say that they would not work as effectively with someone else in command."

"Yet, all of their reports seem to have blanks where Xander appears to have time unaccounted for," Chairman Sutherland responded. "That does not strike me as someone that should be placed in such a position. How do you account for that?"

"These things don't work out according to schedule. And, not everything can be recorded and put into the official record. I know he's gone off book. That comes with the territory. Or do you think that everything that this country has ever done should be recorded, stamped, and numbered. And, then in twenty years time be revealed to anyone with a FOIA request?" Director Grainer glanced at Congressman O'Malley and then back to the Chairman. He stared hard at the Chairman. "With all due respect, if you actually saw what these operations entailed then you would be impressed by the professionalism that my men show. Circumstances force our hands, and quite frankly, they've all risen to the occasion."

"I have no problem with the official reports," Representative O'Malley broke in. "However, I'm more concerned with something else. To put it bluntly, do you trust him?"

Director Grainer looked up at the Chairman of the subcommittee, and then back to the Congressman. He debated with himself exactly what he should say. The exact truth was complicated and could be prone to misinterpretation. "I believe that he is as trustworthy as anyone that we could get given where he came from and given what he can do."

"I don't believe that answers the question." Chairman Sutherland spoke again. "We have yet to verify all of the things that he has done during that year or so he spent in Africa and elsewhere. The information we have gathered from the field is mostly contradictory or so thoroughly exaggerated that we can't be sure that we know what he has really done. Furthermore, we've read Dr. Farmiga's reports. She has some specific concerns about his stability in the long run. Especially under pressure."

"Madam Chairman, the circumstances of what we do often means that we are forced to work with people that would not normally be allowed to do similar work in a conventional environment. That includes temperament. And quite frankly, as talented as Dr. Farmiga may be, she isn't exactly an expert on the type of person necessary for this work. For his work," Director Grainer said calmly. "You need to understand that the terms of his employ are complex. Nobody normal does this kind of work. Nobody normal volunteers for it, even if under pressure. He works for us under the assurance that we would not take more direct steps to appropriate the slayers for our own use. And, in return, he protects our interests. He kills for us. Whomever and wherever we want. And, that's likely the least unsavory of the tasks we assign him. He has performed quite well under the strain that he has been placed under in the past. And, Dr. Farmiga still has him cleared for field duty."

"And now?" Sutherland asked.

"It's become rather apparent that if our current research programs continue to bear fruit, that it will not be necessary for him to continue in such a manner," Grainer answered, agreeing that Xander's hard work pace could not be continued forever. "However, I know that there are also concerns about the speed of things. There are those that want to take shortcuts to speed along the process even more. That's a mistake."

"And, this pertains to Xander Harris, how?" Congressman O'Malley asked.

"If we force his hand, things will get ugly very very fast," Grainer stated, after a moment. He knew things about the man he had specifically picked to head up their front line unit. Things that had never made it into any official reports. The veteran of quite a few missions official and not just hoped that it wouldn't come back and bite him in the ass. "He has access to assets he still hasn't made known to us. You know this to be true. I believe that he can bring to bear enough to cause problems if we force his hand."

"And, if he simply decides that things aren't acceptable anymore?" Chairman Sutherland looked him in the eye, trying to gauge how truthful the director was being.

"We have contingencies in place," Grainer grunted out reluctantly. "However, as I have said in earlier discussions, we better be damned sure that it's worth the fallout that would come about if we follow such a course. We go down that road, that's not something we can take back."

The Director paused, then spoke again, "and that's ignoring what his people, those with us and not, would do to us."

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"You want to do it?" Xander glanced at the ex-SWAT team leader next to him. David's team slayer had come along as well.

David shrugged. "You're the more experienced man here."

Xander turned and looked at the men in front of him. They looked pretty much the same. Sure, they were different heights and weights. Different races. But, they all had the same look to them. In a way, the most recent Gulf War had been something of a blessing. It meant that there were quite a few special forces operators, marines, and soldiers that had hard combat experience in urban environments. These men had blooded and been bled That experience was something that was especially needed now.

Most of the assorted Marines, Rangers, SEALS, and Green Berets in front of him had seen action in Iraq and/or Afghanistan. They'd been handpicked and pulled from the front. All to serve on another one. One much closer to home.

From up close it was possible to better identify what the men were wearing. Tactical gear. Grey and black in color. For use in urban environments. They'd reviewed what information had been listed about the day's training and had planned accordingly.

"Alright, listen up!" Xander said loudly, taking a step forward. "You've all been to the lectures and demonstrations for the last two weeks. Boring shit, I know. Limited exercises, and all that. Today, you're going to get your first training mission."

Xander pointed at the building in front of him, the assembled men turned around to take a look. "That's the site. There have been a number of disappearances within the last couple of weeks. All centered around that building. Mostly homeless, so there wasn't much of an alarm until now. One confirmed vampire, has been sighted in the area, and was chased into that building."

The men turned back around.

"You, Chung," Xander pointed, at a large bearded man in the front row. He vaguely recognized him as being pulled from Force Recon. "What does that mean?"

"Sir, we are to search the building and extract any civilians and make sure that any dead bodies haven't been turned," the young sergeant called out. "We are to take out the suckhead and anybody that has been turned. Sir."

"That's right," Xander stated. He waved a hand to his side, indicating that Sara should take a step forward.

The slayer did as asked, the light vest she was wearing drawing some attention.

"Okay, this is Sara. She's a slayer. You all have been briefed on what that means," Xander pointed to the vest she was wearing, around where her heart was. "In case you decided to sleep through it, it means she's faster than you. Stronger than you. Better senses. And, looking at all of you, way prettier. She'll be playing the vampire in this scenario. Only confirmed one, but that doesn't mean squat since it's already been a couple of weeks. You have been issued with weapons that have been outfitted with MILES gear, that will only indicate a kill in that area. Front and behind. Heart and the area around for fragmentation. Everybody inside is outfitted with the same. Vampires will be equipped with light markers to indicate their own kills. Sara will have a ten minute head start, then you'll go in after her. You have half an hour to clear the building of everyone inside, then meet up at the extraction point. Her mission is to kill you. Remember, thirty minutes."

Xander looked at the watch on his arm, getting ready to start the countdown. "Sara, go."

Sara took off in a run. It was only a few moments before she kicked off of the wall of the building, twisted and caught the end of the ladder on the fire escape attached to the building. She climbed up using only her hands, until her feet could gain purchase on the rungs. When she had done so, the slayer pulled herself up in a flash, and disappeared in an open window into the building.

"Okay," Xander said blithely. "Get yourselves ready. I'll send the go code when it's time. Welcome to the suck."

Xander turned and walked towards the building that served as a base of operations for that particular section of the training facility. It was outfitted with communications equipment and linkups to cameras that would allow the operators to monitor the training as well as issue orders and instructions. The rest of David's team were already in there.

"What's with the Spider-man stuff?" Xander asked, as David walked beside him.

The other man shrugged. "You tell me. I'm not the one that decided to let her borrow that movie."

Xander smiled wryly. "Ah right. Yamakasi."

"And, you just had to follow that up with District B13." Kilmartin smiled. His whole team had taken a rather older brotherly role to the young woman that had been assigned to their team, and they all spent significant time together when they were off the clock.

Just wait until she gets into action on the Block courses, Xander thought. "How's she in the field?"

"Professional," David said, after a moment. He glanced at the other man. Xander was a lot younger, and could be rather goofy at times. He sometimes had to catch himself into thinking that it made the younger man a kid. Or someone that shouldn't be heading up his own unit. "Don't worry about it. She knows how things go."

"Good." Xander allowed himself to chuckle for a moment. "Cyril Raffaelli eat your heart out."

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"Your reports state that he has gotten increasingly close to a particular woman," Sutherland started to read off of her report. "A slayer. One Violet Cooper. It says that she has even moved in with him."

"That's correct." Director Grainer nodded.

"Yet, you have reported that you don't think that she can be used as, leverage. I believe that's correct." Congressman O'Malley had read the same reports. "Now that their relationship has gotten more serious, perhaps its time to rethink that stance."

"Congressman, I really do not think that you fully grasp the situation if you think that that is something that needs to be rethought." Grainer took a moment to take a drink of water. He didn't want to appear annoyed or irritated at the powers that be. "Ultimately, he decided to come to us. He brought much of what we have now. Organization especially. If we force Xander's hand in such a fashion, then that could quickly change. He's integrated himself rather well, and has spread enough of his reputation around that most would think twice about turning on him. Even if done under my orders."

"Doesn't that strike you as all the more reason to find a way to control him?" The Chairman inquired. "It seems to me that your chain of command has become rather complicated and is, quite frankly, spiraling out of your grasp. Additionally, it seems to me that perhaps you are allowing too much latitude to your star agents. General Voll has already made his misgivings heard. There are those are giving serious consideration to his recommendations on taking a more active stance when it comes to the best utilization of our forces to combat these current allies of ours. I have to admit, there is much merit in what he is saying."

"With all due respect, I don't believe that General Voll has a thorough understanding of our situation." Director Grainer nearly bristled at the criticism. "You need to understand. If we treat these women as potential enemies, then that's what they're going to become. Look, this is the way that this works. None of us have traveled this way before. Most of the people that act on our behalf out in the field throughout the world do not believe in duty to the state. These people are not all soldiers. Nor all they necessarily even Americans. Most see us as more of a hindrance to their work than a help. They understand loyalty to their own. And, quite frankly, as much as Xander may be loyal to us, he's one of them more. They aren't going to stand for the slayers to be treated, at best like draftees, and at worst, enemies of the state. Neither will Xander. And frankly, neither will I."

"Yet, there are more teams in training right now," the Chairman feeling slightly rebuked. She understood his motivations, but believed that the director's judgment may be getting clouded. "How long do you think before Xander and his men are, obsolete."

"His skills as team leader aside, he is not solely made up of his martial skills, as unorthodox as they may be at times," Grainer remarked. "Look, we've built up his reputation for a reason. That isn't something you simply want to give up."

"Perhaps that too was a mistake," the Chairman said.

"Look, I understand where you're coming from," the Director looked the Chairman in the eye. "But, we wanted him to be a renegade and something that even demons would fear. What did you want? Another Project 314? Adam? Follow Professor Walsh's delusions that we can simply reprogram people, yes people, human and demon, and have them march step to our drumbeat? You wanted a rogue operator, and you got one. In Xander. Dr. Farmiga confirms it. You wanted a highly skilled, highly amoral, weapon that would follow our orders. But, you forgot that we also wanted someone smart. We wanted someone that could think, not just shoot. The only way you get that is with free will. I'm talking about someone that fully understands his position and chooses to go along with us. A man that'll bleed for us, cause he values the cause. You got what you want, as long as we play ball with him. Now all of a sudden you're afraid because you think you might not be able to control him? People, you thought you had that licked with Professor Walsh's horror show. Do you really want another run through of that debacle? You can't have it both ways. You want highly competent, highly motivated people? Then you're just going to have to accept that those people are going to have their own way of doing things. And, their own desires. You want loyalty, you need to show it."

"I think," the Congressman glanced at the Chairman as he spoke, "that we simply need some assurances that things are under control. Especially if you continue to submit requests to raise your budget. We need to make sure that our allies in other countries do not view him as the one holding the banner. This needs to remain our multi-billion dollar operation. Not his."

"And, our present military actions are not winning us any favors," snapped the agency head. He had his own opinions on the current wars. Not the least of which was that it was diverting good men from what was becoming increasingly the most vital national security concern of their time.

"That's beyond the scope of this inquiry," chided Chairman Sutherland tightly. "To get back on task, how are things going with the second frontline unit?"

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"How'd your day go?" Xander put down his bag on a seat in front of the kitchen table. He walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottled water. He turned around, twisting the cap of his drink off, and flinging it into a small plastic box that served a recycling bin.

"Good," Vi said, lifting her head from the book she had been reading and underlining. "How was yours?"

"Same old," Xander took a sip of his water. "Sara's looking good, only took ten minutes to take out the team that was trying out on the first trial."

Vi laughed at that. "That a good thing? Having the young girl beat the crap out of the big tough men."

Xander shrugged. "Well, it's common practice. Break them down to build them up. I don't figure it'll take much. These guys aren't your garden variety weekend soldier. They're supposed to be elite. They've been through it before, I figure they just need the lesson that not everything is what it looks like."

"And, that even the pretty little jailbait can kick ass," Vi smirked.

"Well, she only looks that young," Xander remarked. Sara was no doubt pretty, as most slayers were, though she also looked a number of years younger than her twenty years of age. Smart too, considering she had graduated college a year early. "They did better later. Even managed to clear the building within the time limit on their eighth try. No losses."

"That's not that good," Vi shook her head. She closed the cover of her book, having finished studying. She pulled the seat next to her out.

"Well, not everyone can be a slayer," Xander took the offered seat. "They're getting there. That's something at least. You finished?"

"Yeah," Vi replied. She tucked her legs under her, noting Xander watching how her worn jeans hugged her legs. "So, we're supposed to be meeting with Kylie and the others tonight."

"Right," Xander said, looking her in the eyes. "Your, friend, from your developmental psychology class."

"You remember," the slayer grinned, liking his gaze on her.

Xander shrugged, putting the plastic bottle down on the table top. "Yeah well, I remember she didn't think too highly of me when I mentioned that I never actually went to college. Called me a townie."

"C'mon, she's not so bad," Vi chided lightly, laying a hand on Xander's. "We're going to Beckett's, that okay?"

"Sure," Xander said, smiling. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her hand. He didn't want to make a big deal of it, since the other girl was one of Vi's closer college friends.

If there was one thing that he had figured out in his admittedly limited relationship experience, it was that one had to work at them. Meaningless sex or lust, which had been the springboard to two of his past relationships, weren't stable bases for long-term meaningful ones. One also had to work on them. Something he intended to do this time around.

"You find out anything on that team?" Vi asked. She had pretty much been sent to school once they got back. The debrief hadn't been very informative.

"Not yet," Xander shrugged again. "Working on what we have through the usual systems. Interpol. IAFIS. The usual suspects. Slow going once we went international. Nothing so far."

"What about the Council?" the slayer inquired.

"Angle's being worked on," Xander replied, vaguely. "If they're any good, there probably isn't going to be much in the system. Especially if they are related to the Watchers as I think they are."

"And the car?"

Xander took another drink from his water. "Plates are phony, and the VID's been filed off. But, it doesn't seem like the car was stolen. It's a rental, but partly cleaned, so there might be some documentation we can check out if we can find out where it was rented from. We have people on it."

"So now we wait," Vi checked her watch. "Oh, and we need to get ready."

Vi squeezed his hand once more and then let go, standing up and heading to the master bedroom of the three bedroom apartment that they now shared.

It was rather extravagant, though with his pay grade, it was something that he could handle. Besides, it was one of the rather few places that had checked out and been approved for his housing. A few other Level 6 employees lived in the apartment complex as well.

Xander followed her down the hallway. It was a better apartment than his old. In some ways, he was worried that it had made him soft. In the past he had had to lay his roll down in places that weren't exactly upscale. Rats. Flies. Night may have covered them, but not their touch. Or the noise.

And, he had accepted it.

Still, he hadn't let go of his security concerns. He had had to rebuild his safe room. That hadn't been fun. Especially considering he'd had to do it with Vi living there too. She only knew about part of it. His more security sensitive material and materiel had to be stored when she was at class or was otherwise engaged.

Xander watched as Vi took off the sweatshirt she had been wearing, her t-shirt riding up. Still, the apartment had its benefits.

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The Level 6 team leader tried to relax in his seat, his arm resting lightly on the top of the booth that he was sitting in. It wasn't the situation, nor the training operations that had been run in the morning and early afternoon. In fact, the new members had worked out quite well in their first day's real training. Probably wouldn't be long before they saw real action, of the demonic variety at the very least.

He knew that the Director had made himself rather scarce lately. Even though he took most of his direct orders from Lampkin, it wasn't as if he didn't usually have consistent contact with the head of the organization. He also knew that after the events of the winter past that the various politicians that pulled the strings had gotten antsy. That undoubtedly meant more and more hearings and inquiries. He wasn't much worried about being let go or targeted, but there were undoubtedly things that he could have done better. And those would likely be used as some sort of way to limit his actions.

"And what would you like, Xander," the waitress asked by name. An eye patch was pretty rare, and he was a pretty generous tipper, so she had taken it upon herself to learn his name. It was an easy way to get a regular, and a good source of income, which didn't all have to be reported to the IRS. That he had ended up being a nice guy and a friend was an additional bonus.

She spoke in a light Irish accent. Given the rather natural way that she spoke Spanish too, Xander wasn't too sure if it was her natural accent or not. It definitely worked on her though, he had to give her that much. Probably one of the reasons that she was so heavily tipped. Of course, he did it cause she was nice, and always went the extra mile for him. Then again, he liked to imagine that he was probably less annoying than the usual college crowd, even considering the usual crowd at the Irish pub and restaurant.

"Let's see, we'll start with the calamari, and we'll order dinner in a little bit, Janice," Xander spoke, smiling at the waitress. "Not everyone's here yet."

"And, to drink?" Janice asked, returning the smile with a bigger one of her own.

"I'll have the pear cider," Vi said, leaning into Xander's arm. She wasn't exactly sure why. It wasn't like Xander would mess around with someone else. Then again, this was the first time she had met an attractive stranger that was obviously friends with Xander.

Kylie, who was sitting on the opposite side of the table indicated that she'd like the same.

"Xander?" The waitress inquired.

"Black and tan," Xander answered.

"British style?" she asked.

"Course." Xander replied simply. She knew him rather well, at least when it came to food and drink preferences.

He turned and leaned his head to his left, whispering into the redhead's ear. "What do you need to worry about? We both know I'm the lucky one here."

Vi just blushed. Her fair skin reddening, hard to make out in the dim lighting. At least, it was for the mere mortals in the pub.

"And, I'll have a pint of Black Frost," Rick, Kylie's new boyfriend added. A bit more than six foot and weighing at least a buck eighty he was a pretty hefty figure. Probably could have or had played football in high school. Not well enough to get a scholarship, though it wouldn't have been necessary in any case.

Janice looked down at him skeptically. "I'll need to see some ID."

Rick grumbled a bit and reached into his pocket, pulling out his driver's license. He held it out to the waitress.

She took one look at it and frowned. Janice hesitated, and then glanced at Xander, asking the unspoken question.

Xander just shook his head and reached out with his right hand towards the man seated in front of him. With a quick dip of his fingers he took the plastic ID card out of the hands of the twenty year old college student.

"Yeah," Xander said, as he quickly put the driver's license in his pocket. "But, no. I'll take that."

"Hey, what the hell man?" Rick almost exclaimed. He managed to keep it quiet however. He wasn't about to let the other guy make a fool of him like that. And, he didn't want to embarrass himself in public.

"This is my friend. She's a very nice lady, and I'm sure that ring on her right hand would surely mess a guy up that decided to try to get fresh and stupid," Xander said, leaning into the table and speaking quietly. He stared at the young man across from him. It wasn't so much the underage drinking that bothered him. It was the social underage drinking without any sort of context that would justify it. That and the legal issues. "And, I'm sure you really really don't want her to have to check this thing for authenticity. I mean, in terms of exaggerated identification, this thing barely makes its way above a Congolese passport. And, I mean, c'mon, Democratic Republic of Congo. Besides, Black Frost? I mean seriously, but no. I mean, I'm seriously, seriously doing you a favor here. And, if you really think that you're going to be drinking underage with my girlfriend here then I think you've been hitting those books way too hard. With your head."

Xander smiled; it didn't reach his eye. "We're done. Now, pick something else."

He leaned back, watching as Rick asked for a coke.

"I'll be back with your drinks," Janice said, leaving the table. She spared a glance behind, mouthing a thank you towards the oldest one at the table.

"So what is it that you do?" Kylie asked Xander, trying to ease the tension. "You never got a chance to say last time we met.

The government man tried to remember back to the first and only time he had met Vi's friend. The statuesque blonde was from California and fit in quite well with the Southern California atmosphere. The origins were pretty much the only thing that they had in common.

During the initial introduction at some house party that Vi had wanted to check out he had met her. He felt a bit awkward given the admittedly not that large age gap, but the fact that he hadn't gone to college and had told her hadn't made it any easier. Luckily, Vi had saved him when he started floundering.

"Construction. Demolition," Xander stated, vaguely. It wasn't exactly the truth. But, it wasn't exactly false either. "Consulting mostly. Building bridges in the metaphorical sense you could say."

"Construction," Rick put in, a smug smile on his face. "That how you lost your eye."

"Well, you know how it is." Xander grinned. "I do have to say that despite what you see in Home Improvement, it really isn't a good idea to soup up a nail gun."

Kylie laughed, and then stopped abruptly.

Xander looked at the young woman. "Relax, it's alright. It wasn't construction related. Just an accident, you know. Like a lot of things in life can be."

"Engineering then," Rick continued. "Where'd you got to school for that?"

"Well, technically Sunnydale High School," Xander said. "Actually, I helped build the thing. The new one at any rate. Never went to college."

"Sunnydale?" Kylie asked. "That's where that big sink hole happened. I remember hearing about it on the news. Too bad. Did you family get out okay?"

"Yeah, they got out. The whole town was evacuated before it happened." Xander nodded. He hadn't checked up on them, but he knew that much. He grinned. "I guess it's a good thing that we got paid for it before that happened."

"So you consult on schools?" Rick questioned.

"Not anymore, "Xander explained further. He got more into his officially sanctioned fabricated identity. Mostly truth, at least up until the last few years. "I do mostly government work. Those buildings that get knocked down sometimes that crime scene investigators crawl all over. They consult with the builders, and with their own people to make sure everything's on the up and up. And, the safety retrofits; they usually have to go over the designs to be able to integrate everything. It's good pay. Government work usually is, if you can find the right stuff to be good at."

"Oh, do you work on anything we'd know?" Kylie asked, sending an disapproving look at her boyfriend.

"Not really. I mean, I usually just review stuff," Xander said, getting somewhat into his comfort zone. "I haven't done the real hands on stuff in some time."

That was one of the things about creating a long term cover identity. Stick with the truth as much as possible. Having to deal with so many false details was difficult and prone to discovery. Instead, the truth, with only the hint of creation was the best policy. There would be less hesitancy than if he had to actively recall a myriad of myths that had been created to flesh out a completely fake identity. Easier to cope with a cover identity this way.

"Do you have to travel much?" Kylie moved back as the waitress came back and placed their drinks on the table along with the appetizer.

"Not really," Xander said, taking a sip from his beer. "I mean, not to Iraq or anything like that. It's pretty much all meetings with a bunch of suits. Besides, the type of construction needed for those projects tends to be beyond our purview. The firms that get the bids tend to have more autonomy."

"Too scared to go over there?" Rick put in, taking a drink from his soda. He had a nasty smirk on his face.

Xander nearly had to roll his eye. His short time working at the local bar in Sunnydale had filled him in on the type. Still, it was kind of surprising that that type of stereotype actually existed outside of a crappy college comedy. Given the number of people in the world, at least some had to exist.

He grinned a little, the smile not reaching very far. "That's, that's uh, not my job. I do what I'm told. That's uh, that's pretty much what being an adult means. I mean, I'm sure in your artificial fishbowl existence you've been led to believe that your elevated position in society has meant that you've really lived life. Sure, with your $250 shoes, pre-ripped designer jeans, and I'm sure you got a tribal tat around a worked out bicep, you believe that your days of gangsta rap and maybe even slumming in the clubs of New York City have made you a man."

Xander glanced over at Vi. He knew he should probably stop, but from her expression, she obviously didn't have a high opinion of her friend's new boyfriend.

He continued to smile, and looked back at Rick. "Cause, you know, that's what being a man is. Crappy music and imbibing in alcohol before it's legal. That really makes you a rebel. Sure, I've tried it myself, but you really should be outgrowing that sort of thing. I mean you've obviously gotten yourself a decent woman beside you, and I'm sure if isn't just your proverbial sowing of wild oats or just some good old fashioned fun, nothing wrong with that, then you've thought about the future. I mean the whole pretty boy routine gets old real quick. What's your future? Working for daddy in the business? Still the artificial fish bowl; and just more proof that you can't do anything on your own. Take a look at our waitress. She gets paid not all that well to take crap from people with holier than thou attitudes cause they grew up with money. Them's working stiffs. Backbone of this country. I walked out on my parents a long time ago. I made my own way from digging ditches. You want to talk about life, about being a man, then lets see what kind of calluses you got on your hands. And, where they're from."

Rick couldn't say anything.

Kylie looked annoyed. At her boyfriend.

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"Uh, the operation in New York didn't go as expected," the young watcher said nervously. He glanced at the elder watcher standing at the window the large office that his boss had recently taken over. "As far as we can tell, they're all dead or missing, sir."

Roger Wyndam-Pryce turned around, clearly unhappy. "I know. I've read the reports. Perhaps you can enlighten me on how this disaster occurred, Mr. Wilkinson."

"The police reports say that there was some type of fight where they were located," Wilkinson read off of the report he was holding, trying not to fidget. "Russian mob. Uh, that's what the reports say. From the newspapers it seems like one of the targets that the slayer took out was related to some purported mobster. It could have been revenge or something."

The formerly retired watcher frowned. "Then our people were found out. That was sloppy. Very sloppy. We'll have to send someone to make sure that any evidence that leads back to us is taken care of."

"Yes, sir." The other watcher nodded, making a notation in his report.

"We shall have to learn from this and move on," Mr. Wyndham-Pryce stated, as he turned around again. "How has the search for other candidates gone?"

"Unfortunately, not so well," Wilkinson replied. "Most of the new slayers have been gathered up by the new Watchers' Council-"

"Ah-em," Mr. Wyndham-Pryce interrupted. It was best not to allow the underlings to use that name. It granted that detestable organization an air of authenticity. Better to get them to start thinking of that renegade group as an organization that needed to be eliminated, with anything useable salvaged.

"Uh, right. Sir," Wilkinson continued. That wasn't the first time that he had been corrected. He would have to remember not to do it again. He was more involved with the upper management after all. If he wanted to keep advancing he would have to make sure that he didn't annoy any of them. "Well, they seem to have most of them. And, the others we've found aren't viable."

"Then, we'll have to look harder, won't we?" Roger turned his head halfway. "That will be all."

Gary nodded unnecessarily, and backed away. He made sure to close the door behind him slowly.

It was unfortunate that the test type had been lost. Her handlers as well. Still they had gained some data, which would be of help for the next trial. They would have to find replacements for those men lost though. That would be some trouble, though he still had sources in the British government that would be of help when it came to locating and acquiring resources.

The remaining watcher took a deep breath and exhaled. Things were not going as planned, and they would have to take more risks to achieve their goals. And, if that meant that they had to take more visible measures against the organization that would call themselves the Watchers, all the better.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter 8: Third World**

Xander sat reading on the metal counter in what had been converted into the morgue. In the beginning it had started out as part of the main medical research lab. The large room was haphazardly set up with counters, microscopes, spectrometers, wires, tubes, and the other things that any modern medical center, or mad scientist's lab, would need. A Van de Graaf generator or Jacob's ladder wouldn't have looked out of place in that set up.

Now, different sections had been broken off and sectioned into their own rooms. More equipment, like examination tables and deep freezers, were added. One room had become a collection room for different organs and body parts preserved in chemicals. Another housed smaller live specimens of supernatural creatures. From baby genbu and pygmy garuda to a real live jackalope.

The mythical lagomorph had been caught by Kilmartin's team a couple of weeks ago. A female, which had been particularly hard to catch. Even after luring it out with some whiskey. Its milk held promise for all sorts of medical research.

Cindy leaned against the counter next to him, waiting as her team leader finished reading the report that she had had to help write up. Dr. Wesker was there as well, having just walked in from the main room.

Xander looked towards the woman. "No doubts?"

The witch shook her head. "None. Autopsy confirms the energy differential. I did the brain scans, Kravanov testing, the full works. No doubt about it. Did you suspect that this was the case?"

"No," Xander replied. He closed the folder and laid it onto the counter beside him. "I heard rumors that such a thing was possible, evidently similar things were done in the Black Dragon Fighting Society. But, that was with potentials only. I haven't heard it working with actual slayers."

"There's never been as many as there are right now," Dr. Wesker interjected. He had been the one to perform the autopsy. It had been fairly standard; a plus being that she hadn't been shot in the head. From the way it was described, Xander had asked to take custody of the body, and had prescribed the method of execution. Still, he had had to bring the witch when he had gotten to the brain and the findings on the corpse hadn't matched what he had expected. At first, he had thought that it might have been some previously unknown quality of slayer physiology in death, but that hadn't turned out to be the case. Unfortunately. "That's a lot of possible subjects. A lot of trials to figure out how to do it."

Xander took a breath and held it. He thought about the implications. The psyche of a slayer was incredibly complex and heavily defended. With so many memories and lifetimes passed along the lifeline that connected all slayers together, it would have to be.

Their fighting spirit was a part of that as well. Taken altogether it meant that mind control to create a fully controllable slayer was impossible. Until now it would seem. He wondered at the number of test subjects that would be necessary for such a thing. And, what kind of person would be willing to do that. Depressingly, he could easily imagine the type of person that would be willing.

While some types of mind control spells could work on a slayer, they would break down when the slayer tried to fully commit to a fight. The slayer inside of her wouldn't stand that type of imposed control. But, what was being suggested was something else entirely.

An overlay of memory triggers and compulsion spells all throughout the entire nervous system. The complex web of magic was so jacked into the slayer's essence that it had become part of it. It wouldn't be viewed as a foreign intrusion when the warrior aspect kicked in, and therefore would not be fought of by the slayer's rather enhanced mental defenses.

It was subtle, not brute force. And, would have taken a great deal of time to develop a model that would be viable in the field.

"They didn't start this from scratch," Xander said, exhaling. He considered who was involved and how it could have come about. The mindset of the people was just about all that was necessary to develop a hypothesis. "And, no way someone just tries this a couple of years after the mass calling of slayers. No way there was enough time. This was in development way before this happened. This was the way they were going to make it. Even back when there was just one."

"What are you saying, Xander?" Cindy asked, seeing where Xander was going with his train of thought. "You think the Council wanted mind controlled slayers?"

"Make sense wouldn't it?" Xander put forth. "Think about it. Buffy. Faith. Both renegades. Buffy quit the Council, and Faith snapped. Such things have probably happened before every so often. Probably impossible for it not to have given the number of girls that have been called. They couldn't have been the first ones that weren't raised as potentials. But, them two happening so close to each? Two out of three along the chain that went wild? Probably hadn't ever happened like that before in all the time they were running slayers. Naw, this was in planning way before the First, and what we did to them."

Cindy picked up the folder that Xander had set aside and opened it up. She refreshed herself with her contributions to the official report. "This isn't easy magic. The innately gifted have the power to do it. Heck, even the majority of practitioners could do it. That doesn't exactly narrow down who might be responsible on the actual application of this magic. "

"I thought you said it wasn't easy." Dr. Wesker broke in. He only understood the gist of the magics that were applied to the body. Mainly in terms of its effects on the nervous system. That was in line with his education. He was still a beginning when it came to magical theory.

Cindy glanced at the head scientist. "It's not. We're talking about minute amounts of energy bonded to the nervous system and brain. Not a lot of power necessary for that. In fact, lower is better in this case. A bit too much amperage and you fry her. Dead, if she's lucky. Otherwise you got a vegetable. Zombie slayers could be made, but you're better of with normal zombies. The type of control necessary to pull this off, no way this was the first time it was ever tried. And, given the neurological differences between slayers and normal humans, they would have had to try it on slayers or potentials prior to this one."

"Which means Council. Especially if they came up with a viable subject in so quick a time. I've been through the Council's records on any of their dark little projects that could come back and bite us in the ass," Xander spoke. "This wasn't in any of them. Giles probably doesn't even know about it. There's got to be someone else left. This just about confirms it. We need to know who it was and where we can find them. It may not require much to do, but someone had to think it up. That's pretty hefty knowledge. I can't imagine there are that many that could develop this to completion. I need you to start looking people up. Work the contacts, and see what shakes out. Maybe someone out there has heard rumors of the ones working this angle."

Cindy nodded.

"Could you do this?" Xander asked his witch, calmly.

Cindy considered it. A small part of her wondered exactly what he was asking. "I have the power, and the control. But, it would take a lot of practice, and that's assuming I was given the exact instructions on how this was done. But, yeah. I could probably do it. Eventually."

"Okay," Xander said. "I want you to go through all of Dr. Wesker's report. Pick it apart. I need a defense against this. They lost one slayer, we have no idea how many of them they have. That could have been it, and they could start coming for ours. We can't have this shit working on them. And, maybe we can work out a way to free any of the others they may have."

"I'll get on it," Cindy replied. "I may have to consult with others outside the organization that aren't exactly stable."

"I guessed that," Xander said. "Okay, keep it as tight as possible, never tell them what it is going to be used for. And, make sure they're vetted well enough not to get any ideas. I don't want anybody on this trying this out. We have enough problems without giving the other side an idea for an advantage. And, not even the slayers in Cleveland okay? Except for ours. They can help look out for the rest. We'll get the others something once we can get a defense working. Until then, we're talking full blackout on this. Dong ma?"

Cindy nodded again.

"This is secret. This report, it's the official report, but I want it designated top secret. T. S. You get me? This has to stay internal." Xander looked at the both of them. "Nobody outside this organization can get their hands on this ever. I'll talk to Lampkin and the director. But, this can't go beyond us. I already know that General Voll has been sniffing around. He's looking for a shot at the Chairman seat of the Joint Chiefs. They'll just have to be happy with the Epsilons. I do not want any of them, especially him, to see this as a shortcut to some war that his boss started. We clear?"

"Yeah," the others said at nearly the same time.

"Okay. That's it then." Xander hopped down off the counter and took the report from Cindy. He headed for the door when something occurred to him.

The agency employee turned around. "She was under mental control. She wasn't acting of her own accord and we executed her."

Cindy frowned and looked at her boss. She wasn't sure what he was feeling, the man having learned to control his emotions so well. At least, he had learned enough control to keep them off his face. "Xander, it wasn't your fault."

"Not important." Xander ignored the comment. It would hardly have been the first innocent life that he caused to end, even if he hadn't been the one to pull the trigger. "Vi never learns of this from you. She'd feel guilty about her part in this, and I don't want that. It was my call, and it's my responsibility. This stays here. She never reads the report. The way it reads there, it wouldn't sound too good for her. If it comes up, and it probably will, then I'll tell her myself. My way. You understand me? Both of you. We clear on this?"

As loath as he was to keep things that he didn't have to from Vi, he also knew that it would take some of that innocence that she had somehow managed to retain despite all the death. And he'd die before that happened. He just needed some time to come up with the best way of telling her. A way that wouldn't have her blaming herself for her part in things.

She was an adult, and could handle the truth. He would never treat her as if she was a child. The redheaded slayer was one of the strongest people he had ever known. But, she was also one of the nicest people that he had ever known. Maybe he was being chauvinistic, but still it was better than Vi blaming for something that was beyond her control. Especially since it had technically been his decision. Maybe that was one of the reasons that lovers shouldn't be in the same chain of command. Aside from the obvious, of course.

From the look in his eye, both the witch and the doctor could see how deadly serious he was about keeping it from his girlfriend until he was ready to tell her.

"Yes, sir," Cindy said at last.

Dr. Wesker nodded. "I understand."

"Good," Xander said, heading towards the door again.

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Leander lay the papers that he had gotten from the drop onto the table. He turned them around so that Xander could see them. "You recognize him now?"

"Todd Kestrel," Xander looked at the copied personnel record in front of him. He skimmed it briefly after taking a long look at the photograph attached. "Council man. But, not permanent. Freelancer. He's seen action; legitimate it seems at one point. I think I saw him in Egypt. Add a couple of pounds and a full beard. Yeah, I've seen him. He was doing merc work out of a handler in Cairo. I considered him for a job I needed men on, but passed on him. You only end up there when you got no work, no luck, and no chance. Frat boys with guns. Like Blackwater, except with even looser rules. Strikes me as unstable. Probably why he got a dishonorable discharge. Hmm, struck, I guess."

"That's pretty much in the report," Field Director Lampkin spoke from his seat at the head of the conference table. "And, I've already read it. You know anything about his associates?"

"He worked mostly alone," Xander recalled from memory. He had been given short descriptions of the men that he had been considering for a job. Most of them were pretty similar to Kestrel. "But, I'll put out feelers. I still have the number of the man in Cairo. See if there's anybody that know more about him. He had a decent rep, though unduly messy. Worked all over in his day, so I don't know if he's got a home base. Somebody somewhere has to know something. We'll get to it."

"There's still the man we have in custody," Lampkin said. "How's that going?"

"Limited magical defenses in his head," Leander spoke, reading from another report. "We're doing things the old fashioned way, and we got some stuff, but we're not exactly talking about someone high up. We're angling towards a base of operations, but they might not even know where the leadership is located. These guys were peons. Field men separated. Temps. Kestrel was probably the only man with any sort of inside connection. They don't know anything."

"Vehicle's a bust," Curtis added. "We tracked it back, but the same fake passports were used to secure the car. Cameras didn't pick up anything significant. Nothing there that we didn't already have."

"There is one thing we all need to consider," Taylor spoke with some experience. "These types of false papers aren't easy to come by. Not anymore. British passports, good work. Fully integrated in the system. That doesn't just come from anywhere. Not anymore. Could easily be government affiliated. A throwaway. Kestrel was regular army. Never came out of Hereford. And, he's been solo for at least the last ten years. No real link. Plausible deniability for the Brits trying to get their hands on more slayers."

"Where do we stand on that?" Xander asked, knowing that the British identity of the man killed on the streets of New York could be a bigger political problem than the field director thought. "If it comes down that way. How hard are we going to be able to push on this?"

"Officially, we need them," Taylor stated, spouting the party line. Despite the progress made in weapons technology, up to and including the human type, things weren't going well in the Middle East. A quagmire likened to Vietnam, as the newspapers seemed to like putting it. He looked at each man in turn. "Unofficially, keep it quiet while you do your investigation. I want to know what's going on just as much as you do. We need to stop this. We need to stop it now."

Nobody had to ask exactly what personal motivation he had to end this thing as soon as possible.

"That's it for now," Lampkin said, gathering together his papers.

The others did the same, and made to leave.

"Oh, Xander," Lampkin called after them. "The director is getting back today. He'll be able to see you at 4:30."

Xander checked his watch. He still had a good three hours until then. He had requested the meeting for a reason. With the way that things were going, especially with another Watchers' Council operating somewhere in the shadows, it was time to lay out more of what he knew was going on. He wasn't exactly look forward to the conversation. "Thanks."

He had his semi-regular workout slash training session next. Abby had come back, so it would be with the slayer, rather than one of the other men in his team or his beta team. He wasn't sure exactly which appointment he dreaded more.

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Xander slammed hard onto the matted floor. He coughed up air a couple of times, still laying on his back.

"You okay?" the slayer asked, in a completely innocent way that really didn't fool anybody. She had just thrown him to the ground. Again.

"Yeah," Xander managed to get out. "Just give me a second until I remember how legs work."

Abby leaned down and extended a gloved hand towards the man still lying on the floor. He reached up and she helped him back onto his feet. "Ready?"

Xander took a moment to flex his neck. He raised his hands again, the grappling gloves tight around his hands and wrists. He nodded. "Let's go."

He moved his feet, trying to get the slayer to not be able to anticipate his movements. It wouldn't give him much, but the idea was sound. If he could watch for an opening, while not allowing himself to get cut off guard, he would be able to strike. And, if he moved fast enough, he would even be able to withdraw in time.

Xander faked a right punch, then followed with a short jab to Abby's side as she blocked the right. She was able to correct herself, and move laterally to let the real punch slide off of her abdomen.

Xander pulled back as quickly as he could, making sure that Abby couldn't grab him into a clinch. If she had been able to do so, he would have been outmatched. Her superior strength would have kept his arms out of his position and there was no way that he could use his legs and mere dodging to keep her from kneeing him black and blue.

As soon as he had pulled back, Xander launched himself at her, letting her go for her own hit. He ducked to the side and moved forward as quickly as he could, making sure he didn't hesitate. He was able to get his right shoulder under her left armpit. Sliding his right leg behind and around in a smooth movement, he was able to sweep the slayer off of her feet, him going down on top of her.

Xander knew that the advantage would soon go to the other side, so he did his best to keep her arms pinned with his left arm. She had less leverage in her position, so he would be able to outmuscle her for the time being. He reached back with his right hand, sending punch after punch into Abby's headgear.

After only a trio of quick punches he could feel Abby start to slip from his grapple. Xander decided to end it early as opposed to trying to overpower her and potentially allow the slayer to counter and send him to the bottom position. If that happened, there was no way that he would be able to stop an attack given the super strength and the leverage she would have on him.

Xander scrambled back to his feet, taking a couple of steps back to gain distance. It was an even match, or as even as a slayer on normal human fight could be. With no cheats, he had to resort to strategy, picking his moments to maximize his hits.

"Nice shot," Abby commented, grinning at her opponent. In an out and out fight she would clearly be able to dominate eight times out of ten. Then again, Xander wasn't one to fight straight when it counted. Still, his skills had clearly increased from even where he had been when they had first met.

Skill for skill he could take out the average vampire pretty easily. The mixture of strikes and ju jitsu-esque ground fighting techniques were intended to minimize a stronger opponent's superior strength and would allow him to better get a clear shot with a stake. Of course, guns were obviously better since they killed from a distance. Gun-fu as it was.

But, just because hand to hand was the last resort, doesn't mean that it should be neglected.

Xander grinned back, though it was mechanical in nature. He moved in again, juking back and forth, looking for another opening. He made sure he didn't fall into a pattern. She would pick up on such a thing quite easily, and that would just get him with a fistful of fist.

Abby struck out with a back fist that Xander was only barely able to keep from connecting full on. Still, it glanced off of his cheek and into his nose.

Xander moved back again so that his opponent couldn't follow up. Blood flowed from his nose, dripping onto the blue mats of the floor. He sniffed audibly, and wiped his nose on his left sleeve, never taking his eyes off of the slayer.

"Xander," Abby said, concerned at the blood still dripping from his nose.

"Forget it," Xander said, moving in close again. He sent a slower right hand punch towards Abby's stomach, waiting for her to block it and try for a grab. He was able to follow up with an overhand left at her unprotected neck.

Abby quickly stepped back, but the blow impacted. She took another step back, knowing that Xander would try for another takedown if she remained in range.

"Wait," Abby said, raising her hands. She dropped her ready stance.

Xander did the same. "C'mon, we still have half an hour. I don't think I'm done getting hit yet."

"You're pushing yourself pretty hard, don't you think?" Abby asked her team lead.

Xander took a breath, and sniffed again. "Yeah, well, disadvantaged and all that. Kind of have to be at my best if I expect to come back every time. Now, c'mon."

"What's this about?" the slayer asked, pressing harder. "As serious as you are during your sparring, it's never been like this."

"Yeah, well, if we're going to go up against more slayers, I need to be ready," Xander brought his hands together and undid the straps. The fight was over for the day. He walked over to a bench by the wall and picked up a towel, depositing the gloves on the bench. He held the cotton towel to his nose, while he picked up another towel and wet it under the nearby water cooler.

"And, that's it?" Abby asked, as she watched him walk back on the mat and clean off the blood he had left behind.

"Am I that transparent?" Xander stopped and frowned for a moment. Though in truth he hadn't been thinking about that.

"I supposed it's sweet," Abby conceded, though she hadn't gotten it exactly right.

"Surprisingly for me, it's actually not. Cause that's not what I'm thinking about. Surprising, I know," Xander replied. He knew that it would come out eventually, though he had planned on having the director aware beforehand. Abby knew the background, but not how it fit together. "Look, pound for pound, I'm never going to be as good as you. As fast. As strong. Never going to happen. Hell, that was probably true even before you got called."

"So?" Abby asked, taking off her own gloves. "I've seen you take out things stronger than you before. Without weapons. You're good. Real good. And, you can take a hell of a lot of hits. Stubbornly, no, make that stupidly so."

"Look, something's coming," Xander finished wiping up the floor and stood up. He looked at the slayer. "I know that my place is, well, I guess it's more of a leadership role than being the one that just hits things. I know that, but that's out there, in the world. There are other places we're going to have to go where I'll be expected to fight myself. Where I'll be expected to actually show honor. And, there will be places where you can't even come with me. It'll just be me. And, I don't know if I'm ready."

The slayer wondered what the team leader was talking about. He didn't look scared, but he seemed to be more concerned with what he perceived to be going on at the present moment than he had been about nearly anything else. "What do you mean?"

"I can't tell you yet," Xander said, taking the towel from his nose, checking to see if it was still bleeding.

"But, it's dangerous," Abby stated, though it was fairly obvious. The only real concern was why he had to do it alone. She knew that he had operated in such a fashion before. When he had been at his most dangerous. He didn't have a death wish at the time. Not really. More like he just didn't care if he came back. It wasn't that way now. And, she didn't want that attitude to come back.

"Not if I do it right." Xander shrugged. He checked his watch. "I guess I should go."

The man picked up his gloves and started walking out of the room.

"Make sure you do," Abby called after him.

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"You wanted to see me, Xander." Director Grainer waved the field agent in, indicating that he should close the door behind him.

"Yes," Xander said, taking a place by the wall after closing the door shut and locking it. He didn't try to make himself comfortable. It wouldn't have really helped. Not in that room. "For starters, how'd the trial go?"

"Not a trial. It was just an inquiry. But, it went about as well as could be expected," Grainer answered, keeping much back. Though he knew it still wasn't that much. Just the details mainly. As well as the specific identities of who was there. What happened during his meetings with the subcommittee was always classified, but he knew that Xander was smart enough and politically savvy enough to be able to read between the lines of his orders and piece together the current mindset of those calling the shots. Hell, he wouldn't have been amazed if he knew who was a member of that particular group. "None of it was a surprise. But, I think you knew that already. So, why did you really want to see me? Especially here? Hardly think it was just to discuss the leash you're on."

They were in the small room at the bottom of the facility. The most protected room in the whole building. At least, from eavesdropping, both technologically and mystically. Small and cramped, it didn't make one feel at ease. Of course, what usually happened there wouldn't cause that either.

The secure room hadn't been used much, at least by people that weren't Xander. There were some communications that were sent from the room for especially delicate operations. As well as some brainstorming with some of the more esoteric of their contacts. Cindy sometimes used the room for spell work that required absolute precision. All cover that Xander had stated were the reasons for the construction of such a special room. Its real purpose had never yet been spoken aloud. Just one of those things that Xander had kept to himself.

Grainer had never questioned why Xander had been so adamant on the construction of the room. He knew that the real reasons had to be more than the ones that his agent had given. He knew that it was for security reasons, and just as long as none of the consequences affected them or the country, he was okay with its presence. It had proven its worth in the past.

"I thought it was about time I told you the truth," Xander said, weighing his words carefully.

"Really," Grainer said, expressionlessly. "Well, let's hear it."

"We both know why I'm here," Xander started. "And, that's the truth. Most of it. I do care about them all. However, I learned some stuff in my time out there, some of it you know. Some of it, I kept to myself. Stuff, well stuff that can change most of one's priorities in life."

"Why don't you skip to the part where I become shocked and awed." The director asked. He always knew that Xander had his own secrets. For the most part, that didn't concern him. He had enough on him to ensure some amount of compliance and therefore could expect some good productivity. Though he always knew that that could change.

"The war, as we are becoming to realize, is being fought in multiple dimensions, on many planes of existence," Xander continued. He considered how best to shape his words so that the old marine would best conceptualize the struggle they were in. "But, for us, it basically comes down to three things. Them, the other guys, and us. Stuck in the middle."

"And, these forces are?" Grainer inquired.

"The bad guys. You know what I'm talking about," Xander said. "Vampires. Demons. Evil witches. Your various supernatural creatures great and small. Hell, I'm sure there are plenty of bog standard humans that do some of the lifting that have no idea who or what they really work for. A lot of it is random. Like competing gangs. Or serial killers. Infighting, or just preying on the weak. No understanding of some greater fight. Some of it is organized. Cults. Covens. Remnants of kings and emperors long since past. But, the big stuff, that's headed up by something larger. And indirect."

"Wolfram and Hart," Director Grainer specified.

Xander nodded. "Exactly. And that's just one. Less powerful individually than the old gods. I mean, they got so many humans. But, together, with the Senior Partners, they built up a base of power that gives them a voice."

"A voice?" Grainer echoed.

"There are powerful forces at work. With them. And against them," Xander explained. "And you don't just go throwing that around when you want territory. Or resources. Or soldiers. There's politicking you need to do. Bargains. Deals. Basically, you need lawyers."

"And, Wolfram and Hart provided these services for a particular entity," Grainer stated. It wasn't a question.

"The Wolf, the Ram, and the Hart. Collective entity. Kinda like, oh I don't know, Cerberus. But, with brains, and a whole lot of mojo. And, yeah, in the beginning. In the beginning they didn't have that much power or influence. It's grown, and they've become something of a major player in their own right." Xander leaned against the wall. "But, that could be said to have changed. One large branch gets blown up. That don't play since it means that the humans are getting uppity with what is considered the property of another. And, then the First making a move so close to their base of power. It's not gone, but the humans kicking some law firm ass, so soon after the First gets bloodied, that starts to get things nervous. A power vacuum, and maybe someone getting the idea, that humans make good cannon fodder. Especially here."

"Why's that?" Grainer leaned back in his chair.

"L.A. branch is gone, with a good chunk of their backup. Legions." Xander shrugged. "That leaves the U.S. particularly vulnerable if someone wanted to start a recruiting drive. And, guess where the slayers are mostly located?"

"Right." Grainer frowned, the whole centralization thing was probably not a good idea. But, he wasn't running the Watchers' Council. "Cut to the chase."

Xander nodded. "Okay. The basics are this. This is a long term thing. Centuries. Millennia. Back and forth, worlds being won, lost, traded. Like the Cold War and communism. Every so often, after years and years of flag waving and some symbolic wins and losses, there's a meet. Between the most powerful of the various sides. The ones with common interests are able to hammer out deals. Carving up territory and the like. And, the rules are set up so that nothing gets out of hand. These guys are hardcore evil in their own right. Maybe it's just cause they think themselves superior. They don't care about us down here. And, they would think nothing of burning a world to a cinder if it meant the other side couldn't get it. Of course, that leaves what they want under the same threat by the other side. So, even between the devils there are rules of engagement."

"And, that's just the one side?" Grainer asked.

"No," Xander replied. "The side of the, uh, angels, is also represented. They have their own intentions. And, don't start thinking that being on the other side of evil makes them good. They're creatures of balance. Good and evil. Yin and yang. That new age crap. Only thing is, they don't realize that balance, allowing evil to thrive in its own dark corners, means that the innocent are always victims. They would think nothing of sacrificing us all if it meant that they could achieve a goal elsewhere. In this, Earth is the babe in the woods. We don't matter. We are so far out of our league that we couldn't even fathom how big this thing is. An ant has more understanding of the elephant it crawls on than we could comprehend what this is truly about."

"And, that's why we're in this room." The director waved a hand at the mystical runes in the walls and ceiling.

Xander nodded. "There are ears everywhere. From both sides. These give us protection, as long as nobody is looking too carefully. We need to be especially careful."

"Because this meet's coming up. Isn't it?" Grainer could see what Xander had been doing. His reputation. The allies that he had set up. The training on a large scale of supernatural warriors. Not just slayers, but genetically engineered super soldiers. "You were pulling the strings the whole time. The slayers. The Epsilons. Us. The defense organizations in other countries. You were playing us the entire fucking time. What are you planning?"

Xander smiled. The smile of the master puppeteer. The man behind the curtain. "Only major forces are allowed to this meet. The good and the bad. And, the neutral, or not so evil. If they got the power and influence. Armies. I needed my own. Only way I could possibly get an invitation. I couldn't get all the slayers by myself. I needed something to offer them. You. And you wanted a way to turn the mystical into a weapon. You needed me. It was easy. I got you what you wanted. I got them safer. And, I got an army. Gets me a seat at the table. A vote. And, I may be able to get the spotlight off of Earth. At least for now."

"And, you're telling me this now," the director thought out loud. "Which means you want something."

"I have a weapon," Xander continued. "And a way to get another vote at the Dark Congress. The more I have, the more I can influence events. There are thirty votes of influence. I have finagled my way into two so far. At this time, some of the forces are getting ready to make a move. Since it's coming up and all. The rise in activity is a symptom of what's going on. They're probably thinking that Earth just got lucky. There's a bunch more slayers, but there's no American branch of Wolfram and Hart to keep things tidy. Like I said. I've heard rumblings. Troop movements, in some dimensions. Maybe they're using it as a staging area for a push into our dimension. The Congress is coming up, and I'm going to need a free hand in order to set things up."

"And?" Grainer said, seriously.

"I'm going to have to place my own pieces on the board. Soon," Xander replied, calmly. "Commit myself. Show them that I'm in this thing. That I'm a player. Maybe intimate that I wouldn't be adverse to a mutually beneficial alliance with one side or another. Or with one of the neutrals that has some play."

"Bloody Cold War all over again," the director grunted out. "That it?"

"Pretty much what you need to know. Similar things have happened here, so it shouldn't be much more than a history lesson." Xander shrugged. "I don't need to tell you that you can't tell anyone about this. And, there's this room to consider and all. Only protection we got against what's above and below."

The director only needed a moment to consider what he had been told. He hadn't been placed in his position because he was slow. He had a strong sense of strategy and tactics. And knew when to make a move or pull back. "Get to work."

Xander nodded and turned towards the door, ready to leave. He glanced back. "I'm a human. Just like you. I gotta live here too you know. But, I do have my own desires. And we both know that neither of us likes the way that things are going. I can do things you can't. I can't promise you'll like what's coming, but I can tell you this. I wouldn't put this world in danger if I didn't have to."

He started to leave, but stopped when his boss called after him.

"One more thing," Director Grainer spoke as he stood up from the chair. It made a short scrapping sound as it was pushed behind him. He looked at his agent's back. He had underestimated the young man. Something he couldn't afford to do again. "You're working yourself up into the halls of power now. In the Beltway. Out there. And, pulling those strings awfully well. I knew you were up to something, but this, naw. Nothing like this. You're good. Very fucking good. You get too big for yourself, and you'll find me behind you."

Xander turned his head to the right, so that he could just about see the man standing behind him. He smiled at the old warrior, lopsidedly, his eye growing slightly. He chuckled darkly. Mostly at himself, and how much he had had to change from the innocent boy. "I wouldn't have it any other way, bwana."

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Xander had had a lot more work to do before he could go home. It had gotten dark hours before he had stepped outside, and there was nobody on the road on his way. It gave him a chance to think about things, but none of it really changed a thing. He'd told the truth. He couldn't exactly take that back.

There were greater dangers to consider. And, he couldn't keep his allies completely in the dark. Which led back home. He had wanted to take more time to consider things. How best to tell his girlfriend. But, in the end, he just had to play it straight. She deserved nothing less.

Walking quietly through the entrance of his apartment, he knew that things were the way they were. He couldn't control everything, but he could choose how to act and react to whatever situation arose. His precautions, security measures, and outright lies would serve him well. They'd have to.

Xander didn't need to turn any of the lights on, knowing the layout of the rooms that he ventured through as well as the placement of the furniture. He dropped his bag onto the couch of the large family room, and walked through a short hallway that led to one of the bedrooms.

He made it through to the master bedroom without making a sound; thin slits of light from a large picture window making the contents of the room somewhat visible. A large bed was set against the back wall of the room. The picture window was to its left, a desk placed below it.

Xander watched as Vi slept, the blankets moving in time with her breaths. He was reluctant to wake her so moved over to the desk and pulled the seat out carefully. He picked one of the slayer's multicolored hats off of it and put it on the desk.

He sat himself down, watching as she slept.

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Vi awoke at around seven in the morning. She didn't use an alarm clock as it was Saturday. Xander hadn't come home last night, but he had called to tell her that he wouldn't be in for quite a while and not to wait up. He usually did when he had to work late, so she had gone to sleep by herself. Not her preferred method, but at least she knew where he was.

Being involved in the fight herself, she had a pretty good idea of the things that Xander got into. It was a step up from the situation that many of the wives or husbands of the agency personnel found themselves in. They might know that their significant others were part of a government agency, some so far as to know the level of danger involved, but that was a long way from being fully informed on the subject.

It wasn't like she was the girl back home, waiting for her man. But, she did like to know where he was. He could get himself into trouble that he shouldn't have to. It wasn't so much that he needed someone to look out for him, but that he could care so much that he acted when he shouldn't. It was endearing, in its own way.

Stretching as she pulled herself up, the slayer sensed before saw the other person in the room. Opening her eyes, she saw that it was Xander, sitting in the chair by the desk, looking at her.

"Hi." Vi smiled, sweeping a hand through her sleep tousled hair. She noticed the expression on his tired face. Serious. Dour. A number of other adjectives could equally apply. "How long have you been sitting there?"

Xander shrugged. "Since I got in."

"When was that," Vi asked reproachfully.

"Since I got in. Round one," Xander replied. He stood up, feeling his legs ache from not moving them for almost six hours.

The slayer frowned as she got out of bed. She walked over and gave her boyfriend a hug, feeling him grasp her tightly. She looked up at him. "What's wrong?"

Xander let her go reluctantly. He tilted his head down and looked her in the eyes. "Vi, we need to talk."


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter 9: They Also Serve**

"Kestrel, Todd," Xander said, sticking his fingers through the blinds and widening the gap. He looked out the window onto the street below. It was near midday, and the temperature was in the nineties. He didn't see his backup amidst the crowd of locals and tourists, though he didn't imagine that he could. They weren't picked for being less than the best. First round draft picks. Cream of the crop. "Second infantry. Out of Luffenham."

Xander let go of the window blinds. He wasn't particularly nervous, despite the fact that he was only working with a few men on the ground. There was no bird in the sky working on keeping things under control. No warthogs or gunships to provide CAS. Not that such a thing would have been expected. Too expensive.

Not to mention the fact that they were in a country that wasn't exactly one of the members of the Axis of Evil. They couldn't run an AWACS plane or even a bird to run aerial surveillance. A UAV was even out of the question. Not in Egypt. Not without governmental approval on both sides. Approval that would require explanations that they couldn't give.

Sure, there was the beta team down there. All of them, doing their damnedest to get him back home alive. When it came to it, they were among the best to be watching his ass. But, they were down there. Not up here with him. Here, he'd have to do it on his own. Just like he used to.

"Let me check." The handler typed in the name into his computer. Despite his cover as the owner of a mid level souvenir shop, his computer system was top of the line. That was the way of the 21st century. Nobody had rolodexes or black books anymore. No paperwork kept to keep track of the hundreds of rotating men that he had working in different countries in Africa.

It didn't take that long to come up. The information age had fairly revolutionized the work, and it was a lot easier to keep updated about the status of any assets currently in the field. Not cheap, but not too expensive to be unaffordable to a runner of even less than top talents.

Fahim read the fairly recently updated entry and looked at the man that was in his office. A man he hadn't seen in more than a year. It had been as surprise when the mercenary had called him. The old fixer had had his suspicions and had required a face to face before he would talk about anything. "He's dead. Died in New York City a couple of weeks ago."

"I know." Xander turned around and walked back to the desk. He looked at Fahim. A man in his late forties, he ran quite a few of the hirable guns in the country. Mostly those on the lower end of the spectrum. Disposables. "I need to know where he was located. Where he was working out of. Who he was running with. Who he was working for. Especially on his last job or who asked for him more than once."

"Jack," Fahim said reproachfully. "You know I can't tell you that. It's against the rules. I have a duty to my contractors. I start letting these details out, well you know how things go. It just isn't done."

Xander smirked at the older man. "Please, you're not running Berlin. Or even Rio, for that matter. This is Cairo. I give you five hundred, you tell me what I want to know. And, we both forget that we ever talked. Nobody needs to know."

"Five hundred?" echoed Fahim. He laughed from his stomach; a deep laugh of genuine amusement. Jack was nothing if not the kidder. "You think I'm cheap?"

Xander shrugged, not laughing. "Life is."

Fahim laughed aloud again. "Be that as it may, I can't tell just tell you. You should have known that already."

"Then why don't you ask me why I would be asking you for it anyway. You know, if I knew that already." Xander smiled coldly at the man. "He's dead already. Handler mercenary confidentiality has its limits. Two thousand."

"Nice try," Fahim replied, shaking his head. "It's not going to happen. I do have some scruples you know."

"I'm surprised you know the meaning of the word." Xander leaned into the desk, resting his hands on it. "I'll tell you this much. Kestrel was running an operation against me. I killed him. Thing is, the people I think he worked for probably aren't going to want me to come looking for them. They'll be looking to tie up loose ends."

Fahim didn't react. But, his mind started winding up, pondering the fallout of Kestrel's last contract.

Xander leaned back and pointed at the half-Arabic half-Greek man. "You're a loose end. You want to end up alive after this, you'll tell me what I want to know."

The one-eyed man raised his hands, shrugging. "Or, I could just wait until they come after you. And, hope, I guess, that I manage to get them before they get you. Hope. How much do you think you got of that?"

"Not going to happen," Fahim leaned back in his chair, laying his hands on his stomach. "That's not how the game is played. I just supply the men. Nobody goes after fixers like me. Not if they ever want to hire on more men from anybody. Or, you know, expect to live for much longer."

The special agent working an old cover narrowed his eye. "That was one of your contracts wasn't it? The Brits aren't playing games here. They will come after you for this. New York was fucked. Nobody got out well."

Fahim tried to mask his surprise. The mercenary of sorts in front of him obviously knew quite a bit about what was going on. "I, I don't know what you mean."

It was weak, and they both knew it.

"Snake Eye, this is Big Bear." Xander heard a voice in his head. It was technically former Sergeant Major Ryan over the radio link.

Xander didn't visibly respond to the message as it continued. While the small device in his ear wasn't really invisible, his hair covered it for the most part. It wouldn't do to make anyone think he was wired for sound.

"We have incoming, still a few minutes out. Two cars, green sedans, ten men," Ryan reported. He had situated some of his men above street level and they had noticed the two cars come in. Normally it wouldn't be an issue, but that was why they had to pay attention. "Weapons visible. Looks like MP5's and HK 53's. Moving to support positions. Thirty seconds."

Xander moved to the window and looked out it. He saw the vehicles approaching from a distance. Given the traffic, it would still be some time before they got there. At least a couple of minutes like Scott had said. It was Egypt after all. Traffic regulations were a quaint joke in Egypt. Nobody did high speed infiltrations and getaways here.

He reached behind his back and pulled out his sidearm. He pointed it at Fahim, while nodding back towards the window. "There are people coming with nasty weapons. You sell me out to the Brits? You fucking me over?"

Fahim raised his hands slowly, trying to talk his way out of the situation. "What are you talking about Jack?"

"I'm talking about ten men with British issue weapons driving as fast as they can to get here," Xander replied, raising the weapon to point at head level. "We only have a couple of minutes. You send them after me?"

"No." Fahim shook his head, gulping audibly. He thought quickly, deciding that he needed to cut his losses. The better part of valor and all that. "Looks like you're right. They aren't playing by the rules. So what now?"

Xander pointed the gun down and walked away from the window. He picked up his bag from its position on the floor near Fahim's desk. "We need to get out of here now. You got a back way out?"

Fahim nodded. Even though Jack had tried to buy him, the situation had changed. He was in a dangerous line of work, but he was no match for a group of armed men if they were determined to get to him. He needed Jack. For the time being at least. "There's a stairwell into the alley out back. Through the window."

"Good," Xander replied, he walked over behind the desk. He dropped the bag down. "You have any weapons?"

Fahim nodded as he stood up, and moved to let Xander past. He walked to a cabinet against the far wall and opened it up.

While that was happening, Xander placed the handgun into his belt. He pulled the computer out and unplugged the power cord before he took off the plastic front cover and thin metal housing that hid the machine's inside workings. Xander took his multitool out of the front pocket of the shoulder bag and worked it into a screwdriver. He unscrewed the four small screws that connected the hard drive to the computer and unplugged the cables that attached it to the rack that held it in place.

"What are you doing?" Fahim asked, as he checked the magazine in a CZ P-01 and shoved it into his waistband. He picked up a Tavor MTAR 21 and loaded that with a magazine as well.

"I need the info on Kestrel," Xander said, as he shoved the freed hard drive into his shoulder bag. He slung the pack over his shoulder and looked at what Fahim was holding. "We got a problem here?"

The handler looked the man in the eye. He had no doubt in his mind that if he tried something, he would not be the one walking out of the room. His position meant that he should protect his contractors at all costs. But, he wasn't exactly the untouchable handler he had been a few minutes ago. "No. I have something better than that pistol here for you."

Xander walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a 9mm Uzi. It had a 50 round magazine already inserted. Xander took another loaded magazine and put it into his shoulder bag. He looked at what the handler was holding. It was new and obviously well cared for. The assault rifle had the ITL MARS reflex sight on it, instead of the less expensive red dot that had become common.

"Nice," Xander said, looking at his own weapon to make sure that the Uzi would function properly.

Fahim shrugged his shoulders. "Allah damn the Jews, but they do make some fine weapons."

Xander just stared at the man. He just shook his head. "Well, you got half of that right I suppose."

"Snake Eye, forces have reached your building and are exiting their vehicles." Ryan spoke over the com link.

"We need to move," Xander said, opening the door. He spoke aloud, his mike would pick it up. "Back alley. Stairwell. Twenty seconds."

Fahim looked at him quizzically.

"I don't walk into a room I can't walk out of," Xander said, looking at the other man. It had taken a long time to get where he was now. It wasn't just the training. He could fire guns well even before. The tactics took longer, but he seemed to have an innate skill for it. Evidenced by the fact that he was still alive and hadn't gotten his team killed. The real difference was the confidence. Confidence he lacked in high school and even sometime after. Screwed up a lot of things. Not anymore. He couldn't afford it. "We need to go now."

The handler shrugged and picked up a small dough-like brick from the open cabinet and went to place it onto his desk. He stuck a detonator into it and set it for ninety seconds. It activated with a small beep. He looked back at the younger man, and shot him a crooked grin. "Yes, we should."

Xander nodded and brought the Uzi up. He opened the door slowly and carefully made his way down the short hall to the back window. Fahim followed behind, covering the inside stairwell as they passed it.

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"What's the game plan, Top?" Oscar asked, as he sighted the men get out of their vehicles. Once the vehicle had been sighted they had descended from the second story room for hire and discretely converged on the bedroom.

The others would be following after so as to always keep the potential, but probable, attackers in sight. They would have to move in close if they wanted to take the men outside.

It would be unfortunate if that had been necessary. There were a number of people walking outside, including some suited police with MP5's under their coats. A lot of people in the crossfire. Including some that would contribute to it.

"Wait for Xander to make his move. Cover him if need be," spoke the former sergeant major. He triggered his radio. "Blood Hound, walk the front. You may have to keep the police off of us if we run into trouble."

Scott waited for the confirmation and then looked over at Browning, nodding once. "Let's go to work."

They walked down the street, heading to the vicinity that the alley would end at. The others would cover the front.

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"I don't like this, sir, " Chad said as he exited his vehicle. He took a quick scan around. Nobody was looking directly at them in what he would call a suspicious manner. Still, skilled individuals wouldn't do something that stupid. For all he knew, any one of the multiple people could have a weapon stashed somewhere just waiting to pull it out and start shooting at them.

There were too many people to be able to identify threats, and it made him itchy. Not to mention how little they had to go on in terms of the building they had to infiltrate. It wasn't like the old days. Even though they had had to improvise much of the time, it was done with a group of people he could rely on standing with him. People he could trust.

Barring the guys he knew on his current team, he didn't have that anymore. Two men weren't enough to make him feel confident of the situation. Still, he had to push on. Stiff upper lip and all that.

"No shit," Lyle said, as he and the rest of the men exited the green sedan they had ridden in. He checked his surroundings, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. Just the normal mix of passerbys. "You know what to do."

Five men exited the twin car that was parked next to them.

What they were doing was dangerous. It was one thing to do a snatch and grab in a foreign country when you had helicopters running air support and could expect armored vehicles to run the exfiltration. Now, he had to rely on two rented cars that cost way too much. And weapons that were procured from some rather shady dealers. They worked, that was something at least.

"Yes, sir," Chad replied, making sure that his HK 53 was hidden under the jacket he was wearing. It wasn't exactly conspicuous, but hopefully they wouldn't be out in the open for very long. They had the specific location they needed to hit, so it should only be a couple of seconds.

"Roger, Al, watch the cars," Lyle spoke into his throat mike. It was covered by a high collared shirt, so as to not draw attention. His own weapon was secured under his jacket, and he looked up at the building. It was a modest five story building. The office was likely on the top floor or the floor right below. The team hadn't been able to access any blueprints for it. Not enough time. Not enough backup. The street maps would have to suffice. Hardly a desirable situation to be in at the start of a mission. "Mac, take two and go around back."

"Right," Mac replied, picking out his team with a nod of his head. He hadn't known the guy put in charge prior to a week ago. He had done mostly light work for the Council before for a number of years. Mostly transport and protection. He had failed out of CIC, though he hadn't seen it as his fault, and had gotten a job from his uncle. Steady work, and mostly routine. He had seen some action and staked a couple of vampires in his time. He could handle himself for the most part and did win the bar fights he got into. He was just itching for a chance to prove to these guys that he had what it took. He'd seen the way that the new guys had looked at him. Like he didn't belong. Like he wasn't one of them.

Lyle hadn't picked him for his talents. He was simply the most experienced out of all the members of the team barring Roger and Chad. And himself, of course. "Chad, go with him."

"Yes, sir." Chad nodded and walked over to the other car to stand by Mac. Duncan and Fred were the other two men that would go with. Both of them had apparently been watcher trainees that had been assigned to the Council's Special Ops team. They'd been on assignment during the First Evil's attack and had been spared.

It hadn't been any extraordinary skill that had saved them. That wasn't why they had been selected for what the Council amusingly called Special Ops. It was simply luck and timing. They could shoot straight. Seemed like that was all that was needed for the Watchers' Council.

Chad glanced over at the two men he knew from the before times. He didn't like the situation anymore than his superior did. Lyle had come to him when he had been particularly disinterested with being in charge of security for a small tech company in Ireland. He had jumped at the chance for some action, but was starting to wonder if it was a mistake. He wanted to go back home to his wife and kids, but the former soldier didn't want to let his boss down. It was an open contract. He could decide to cut bait tomorrow.

Lyle nodded to Chad, knowing that it was his presence that had resulted in Chad and Roger being there. They had been called up pretty quick to serve as team leader. As a veteran of the Paras, he along with Chadwick and Roger, were the most formerly experienced in the whole team, even if that hadn't mean vampires and demons. As a former captain, he hadn't exactly been impressed by the people that he had been assigned.

Still, the special request had been put to him by certain members of the House of Lords. That meant something. He'd been thrown into the deep end and briefed on the existence of demons and slayers. Magic and monsters. He'd been reluctant to accept once he met the men he would ostensibly be working for.

The former soldier hadn't been impressed by the Council's shooters, and he hadn't much been impressed with the upper echelon either. He could read between the lines. They must have lost a number of people to have him conduct an operation so soon after forming the team. They had barely trained together before being ordered to take their target. Some type of mercenary runner in Egypt. Probably supplied the previous men that this Watchers' Council had used. Covering their tracks. Smart, but the fact that it was necessary spoke much as to the Council's ability to pick its assets. Which was to say, not very well.

Lyle advanced on the building, moving aside to let some tourists move past. Eddie, Phil, and Cole followed behind as his backup. He hoped that they wouldn't end up shooting him in the back. FNG's the lot of them.

Chad tossed him a nod, and another worried look, as he started off with Mac and the rest of the guys. Lyle didn't say anything, though inwardly he agreed. He looked back to the three men in his own team. "Get ready."

He waited until Mac and his group had reached the end of the street before starting for the souvenir shop.

Lyle had just entered the door when an explosion burst through a window on the fifth floor of the building. Debris started to rain down on them, as smoke filled the air.

"What the fuck?" Eddie was tempted to go for his gun, but he saw the two suited men coming towards the site of the explosion, their hands going for guns and radios. He froze, not knowing exactly what to do. Dumb, but it was better than pulling his weapon in front of cops.

"We need to get out of here, right now," Lyle told him, ordering the nervous man not to act with his expression. He activated his radio. "All teams, exfil now."

Shots rang out as he finished talking.

"We're taking fire," Lyle heard in his ear. It was Chad, speaking rather calmly. He heard a ripping sound that denoted the sound of a gun firing fully automatic. "Duncan's down. We need backup!"

"Damn," muttered Lyle as he walked as fast as he could toward the end of the street. The alley behind was the likely source of the shots. Right where Chad and the rest should be by now. "Come on."

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"Motherfucker," Xander grunted as he hid behind the dumpster. He reached his hand around and fired off a short burst from his Uzi. Across the street, Fahim had taken cover behind a pile of rocks. Evidently there were still buildings being torn down for renovation and construction. They made for easy cover.

Fahim let go with another burst of his assault rifle. Just to make the other guys keep their heads down. They had been spotted coming out of the alley. He had managed to bring up his gun and take one down before they had had to take cover and start shooting back. The young blonde man's hesitation had cost him his life. Luckily for him.

The handler looked across the street at the American who he was now on his side of the fight. The Brits had obviously been unhappy with his performance. Usually that just meant words and harder to collect payments. "What are we going to do now?"

Xander ignored the question. He ducked down a little as return fire came back. A couple of holes appeared through the metal above his head. Likely from the HK 53 breaking through bare rusted metal. He fired a few shots in response. "Big Bear, this is Snake Eye. Am taking heavy fire. Need backup."

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"Roger that," Ryan said into his mike. He moved as quickly as he could towards Xander's position. The former soldier didn't take out his weapon yet, there were cops coming and the man they had monitoring communications had told them that more were on their way. They didn't have long to get their man and his package out of there alive. "Blood Hound, we need cover on the right flank. Take the others and keep those cops off of us."

He stopped at the corner, taking a quick look. It was enough to get a layout of the battle that was ongoing.

Xander and the handler were halfway down the alley. About thirty feet from their vehicle. They were pinned by fire from three men. A corpse lay about halfway between them, an MP5 on the ground near his hand.

Scott glanced beside him at Oscar. He motioned the other man to quietly make his way across the intersection to the other side of the street.

Oscar was able to do so in seconds. The sounds of the battle at hand covered his run. He pulled out his handgun and took his place, nodding at Ryan.

Together they shot at angles, catching two of the men in the head.

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The shots rang out and men went down. Two of them. Dead before they hit the ground.

Chad felt like he had been hit in the back by a hammer. He fell to the ground, rolling and snaking his way next to a parked car as best as possible. They had been ambushed from behind.

Fred was behind and was supposed to keep an eye on their flanks and rear. Evidently he had failed at that. A quick glance at his head, a small hole blown through the front, revealed the price the man had paid for his failure. Mac had gone down as well, with a head shot. Obviously there were expert shooters there. He had been lucky to have been the third chosen to hit. It had given him the chance to move and thereby avoid the rate of the others.

He fired a couple of wild shots to keep the gunmen back as he looked for better cover. His best bet was to wait for backup to arrive and then press on. He couldn't think about the three men that had just died.

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Oscar noticed the men coming at them up the street. He aimed downwards, shooting down the street towards the armed men coming at them. He managed to tag one in the chest while the rest scattered, as the three other men from the beta team started to open fire. As the man fell to his knees, the former army Ranger was able to shoot him again in the head. The man wouldn't be getting up again.

Scott didn't see an open shot at the remaining man on the street he had been aiming at, so he turned around, scooping the area for the men that the other man had been shooting at. He watched as Ramirez, Ellison, and Reacher came up quickly, firing their TMP's again at the men that had been angling to get the drop on him and Oscar. He turned back around, looking for the man that hadn't been stopped.

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"Shit," Lyle spit out as he ducked into the street to avoid the fire. He had just seen Phil take one hard in the chest and then the head. It was a pistol round and hadn't penetrated the armored vest that the man was wearing, but they didn't have helmets so the man was dead. He didn't want to leave the bodies behind, but they had no choice. They weren't in the army anymore, and truthfully, it wasn't like most of the guys on the team were soldiers. Or former ones.

He heard the sirens getting louder and saw the police officers begin to get a bead on him. A couple of shots from the other side and from his own had sent the officers looking for cover, but they had gotten courageous again. He raised his MP5 and let off some rounds in their general direction. He was careful not to hit any of them. The former paratrooper might have been conducting illegal operations inside their country, but he wasn't going to kill some cops for simply doing their jobs.

Even though the cops were armed with automatic weapons, they were rather reluctant to use them when the street still had quite a few civilians running around.

Lyle looked at his scattered men and then back over his shoulder towards the waiting cars. He triggered his radio. "Everyone, back to the cars. We're leaving."

The team leader watched as his team made its way back to the waiting cars under fire. Roger and Al were providing cover fire. He noticed with some distaste, as Al fired off his gun. He wasn't too careful about picking his shots. Some of them hit a couple of the remaining civilians in the street. It was sloppy. Too damn sloppy.

He couldn't worry about that though. He made his own way back to the sedans.

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"Alpha one, this Alpha two." Chad grimaced, he looked around and noticed an old wooden doorway on his left, not too far away from his present position behind the cover provided by a parked car. It looked like it led to an abandoned building. "Cannot make the vehicles, will secure alternate route of exit."

Once that statement was confirmed, Chad fired off a couple of more rounds as he picked a smoke grenade off of his belt and tossed it a few feet away. Once it had detonated he made his way as quickly as possible to the door. A hard shoulder and he was inside, making his way in the dark for the other side. He dropped another smoke grenade, and kept going, hopefully for an exit.

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Xander heard the door give and presumed that the man firing on them had left. He took a peek around the dumpster and noticed Scott and Oscar coming up from the other end of street toward him. He glanced to his left, noticing that Fahim was slumped behind the pile of rubble he had taken cover behind.

With a fleeting look at the bloom of smoke that was rising, he made his way carefully, but quickly, towards the handler. The shooter would be gone by now. Or hiding in that building waiting to get the drop on them. They didn't have the time to check it. Or the resources to clear the building while keeping the police at bay. They'd have to let him get away. It was the nature of the work sometimes. They couldn't always be thorough. But, it didn't mean that they had to leave with nothing though.

Xander bent down, looking down at Fahim. Without needing to check vitals he knew that the man was dead. The hole in his eye was probably from a stray shot. Unlucky for the criminal. Unlucky for him as well.

"Big Bear, search the corpses and take pictures," Xander instructed as he conducted his own search of the dead man before him, putting his gun away. He extracted Fahim's cell phone and wallet. The only things of interest.

Scott conducted his own search, taking pictures of one of the two men that were lying in the street with the camera on his cell phone. Oscar did the same with the other man.

"We need to get out of here," Scott said, walking up to Xander. He looked at the body of Fahim and frowned. He just hoped that whatever they had found would provide a lead. "The rest are going to have to bug out soon."

The three men that were again firing at the cops a bit away from them wouldn't be able to sustain a long battle with the police that were beginning to converge on their position. Numbers would soon be against them. As would the firepower.

Oscar walked up to them, putting his phone into his pocket. "Xander, your neck."

Xander placed a hand to the side of his neck. He pulled it away and looked at it, noticing some blood. It had mostly dripped down onto his shirt. Good thing it hadn't nicked his carotid artery. No spurting. "Must have been a ricochet or a rock splinter or something. I'm fine."

Oscar simply nodded.

"I got what I need let's go," Xander said, standing up and placing Fahim's cell phone and wallet into his bag. He took one last look around to make sure that nothing had been left behind. The only things there in the street were shell casings, smoke, and bodies. "I'll patch up in the car."

They hurried to the vehicle that Xander had driven up to the building in. Scott radioed his men to begin their own getaway while he made his way down the alley after the others.

From the explosion to the time that Oscar started up their car it had been less than five minutes. Felt longer to them all.

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Lyle leaned closer in to Chad's bare back. There was a red circle on his skin where the bullet had impacted after hitting a coat, shirt, and bulletproof vest. "You'll be fine."

"Thanks," Chad said standing up and putting his shirt back on. He looked around at the dank room that they were in. It was their current base of operations along with the two additional rooms in the cheap motel they had taken rooms in. Of course, now they were under occupied. "Well, that sucked. Who the hell were those guys?"

Lyle shook his head. "I have no fucking clue."

The team leader turned around to the other men. Roger was on the phone to their superiors, while the others just looked confused. It hadn't gone as expected, though he hadn't been particularly surprised by the results. The only ones there with decent training and hard experience were among those that made it back. That shouldn't be a shock to anybody.

Roger ended his call and walked closer to the center of the room by one of the beds. "Boss man wants us back first thing. He's not pleased."

"Bloody hell," Chad grunted out, still feeling the ache in his back. If it had been a rifle round, or armor piercing, or he hadn't had the trauma plate in the back of his armored vest, he would have been dead. It had been close. If he hadn't stood when he had to respond to the incoming fire, the bullet would have caught him in the head instead of the back. Just the way of things sometimes.

Lyle turned to look at the others. Four of ten men dead in five minutes. Probably the worst operation that he had ever run. Though those had all been legit battles with fellow soldiers beside him. Not mercenaries and wannabes playing at soldier.

He looked away in disgust. They were still his men though. He had been in command and it was ultimately his responsibility that they were dead. Even if he had thought the plan and the orders were foolhardy and dangerous. Orders were orders. Even if they came from idiots.

"Pack up," Lyle said, going for his bag. "We need to get out of here before anybody starts looking for us."

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"That didn't turn out so good at all," Xander muttered from his seat on the couch. It was comfortable, and allowed him to sink in deep. He turned to his left and looked at Scott was sitting in a chair next to him.

The former Delta operator shrugged. "Still got something. We'll have to get it back and see what we can pull off of it."

"I know," Xander replied, taking another sip from his beer. The computer hard drive should be gone over by experts. Which meant it stayed in baggage until they had the opportunity to deliver it into the hands of the good computer techs in their organization. "What went wrong?"

"Nothing," Oscar put in from his seat opposite of his team leader. He took a sip from his whiskey. "Couldn't put men anywhere else, and it's not like we had the pull to do a real extraction. We all get to go home. They don't. Take it as it went. Shit happens."

They spoke softly, but it was unnecessary with no one else in the hotel bar. There was nobody to overhear them.

"Yeah," Xander said, turning to look straight ahead at the window that showed what was outside. It was dark, but the lights in the garden showed grass and few bushes. Not exactly poetic or awe inspiring. Oscar was right, there really wasn't anything else they could have done. "Let's pack it up. We gotta get home."

Scott nodded in agreement, taking a drink from his own beer. He remembered back when he had been asked to volunteer for the assignment. Which was odd in and of itself. The operators in his unit were used to orders. That was simply how they operated. The whole supernatural thing was a surprise, but once the facts and rules were laid out it was easy to accept.

Vampires were killed by fire, sunlight, beheading, and wood to the heart. They were also vulnerable to holy water and holy symbols. Despite what Blade showed, silver didn't work. Lycanthropes of their many assorted types, on the other hand, could be killed by silver. Just like Fyarl demons. Demons that possessed people had to be exorcised out. Magic. Magicians were tricky, but sufficient firepower or a spell slinger of their own solved that problem.

The list went on and on. It wasn't random. There was an explanation of biology, or magic, or physics that defined them. There was nothing to fear from the supernatural simply because once explained, it became natural.

They understood that world now. And once understood, it could be fought. Fought and beaten. By men like him, with their soldier's ways. By women like Abigail, with her slayer abilities. Or Cindy, with her magic. And, by men like Xander.

No magic. No supernatural strength. Not even the same training that he had had. Sure, Xander had undergone much, and had learned much in his time on his own and with the company. He had had Ranger training of sorts, but he wasn't a Ranger. That usually meant black ops. Dangerous men who would sacrifice others as if pawns in a game of chess. Men that didn't care about others, only about their objective and some fuzzy idea like patriotism. Or democracy. Or oil.

Xander wasn't that either, though he could be just as dangerous.

Still, what he lacked in any formal training or supernatural powers he made up in tenacity. And a complete lack of fear. And a complete disregard for everyone that wasn't one of his own people. That caused confidence. It made him dangerous. To others, and to himself. However, it also made him good. It could make him a nightmare. When it came down to it, it was why they let him out there. Why he was good enough to run with the big dogs given his limitations.

He never did tell Xander about his orders to execute the younger man if he ever felt that it was necessary. But, working with him so far, he had the distinct feeling that the one-eyed man actually knew that. The fact that Xander was still doing what he was doing was a testament to his commitment. A lot of loyalty in that kid.

Scott stood up as the others did, placing his empty bottle on the short coffee table in front of them. He dropped a few bills on the table as well to cover the tab. His eyes met Xander's for a moment, his natural ones to the younger man's one natural and one medical acrylic.

It was sometimes said that men in his position, men in his line of work, often came from less than ideal backgrounds. Alcoholism. Child abuse. Absentee parents, usually the father. Though he hid it well, Scott knew that there was some truth to that for the man that very well could have joined his ranks, given a few different twists of fate. He didn't know exactly, and he didn't pry. Given how he treated his girlfriend, it couldn't have been that bad. But, there was the work. Coldhearted or ruthless wasn't even half of it. That was the nature of the beast, and all of his men had it in spades. But, if Xander beat them in one thing, it was that. The cold heart. The snake in a suit attitude combined with absolute commitment to the team. A contradiction that kept people's loyalty while making him a dangerous man to cross. Looking at Xander sometimes, when he was on the job, or with his girlfriend and friends, it was like looking in a funhouse mirror. He saw himself so many years ago, simply twisted. Darker.

He didn't know the background that would create someone like that. Dr. Farmiga might. He did wonder sometimes what exactly had to have happened to make someone like Xander.

But, that wasn't his job. And, he had a plane to catch.

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"You mind telling me what the bloody hell we're up against?" Lyle almost shouted at the smug man looking at him. They had been up all night and the flight hadn't been easy. Couple that with having to report right after getting back and it meant he was not in the best state. Irritable didn't describe it by half.

"I take it you failed completely?" Roger Wyndam-Pryce stated, taking a seat in his office chair. He didn't offer one to any of the others.

"Well no shit," Lyle snarled. "You send me in with a mostly green team, little intel and, oh, fail to mention that we might go up against a trained team of gunmen. I thought all we had to worry about where demons and half-trained slayers. I didn't see any schoolgirls or horns out there. What the fuck was that then?"

"I thought you were supposed to be good," Roger said, dispassionately. He raised a hand and pointed at the team leader. "That was why we hired you."

Lyle smiled, dangerously. "I'm one of the bloody best. But, you stick me with losers and you're never going to get anywhere. Fahim's dead. But, I can't guarantee what he may have given up. Now, who the fuck was that?"

"Describe them," Roger spoke again. Leaving all emotion out of his voice. Inwardly, he was seething. Another screw up. Giles and his party was increasingly making him angry.

"We didn't get good looks at most of them," Chad replied. "There was a black man. Three Caucasians. And one that may have been Arabic. They all had long hair and thick beards. No positive ID's."

The watcher sighed. "Can you give me anything?"

Chad glanced over at his superior. Then he looked at Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. "All of them had to be well trained. The way they moved. The way they operated. That's military training. But, that doesn't mean much. Maybe Australian. American. French. German. Hell, Russian for all we know. I mean, the man that was extracting Fahim was white too. Dark brown hair. Beard. Thing is, he only had one eye. Wore an eye patch over his left eye. Moved pretty damn fast."

"So some type of soldiers." The watcher asked, not understanding exactly what was being said. "Would you be able to identify them? Him?"

Chad just looked at the man. The list he had just read off meant it could be SAS, SEALs, GIGN, GSG 9, or Spetsnaz. And that was only if it was the top line guys from those particular countries. Hell, the way things were in the world, with a bit of natural talent, they could have been hit by a bunch of American National Guardsmen.

He just shrugged. "I'll work on it. See if anything pops up."

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Xander leaned his head against the inner hull of the plane. He looked down through the plane's window at the blue sky and white fluffy clouds whipping past. They still had a number of hours to go before they would land. He couldn't sleep though.

Things hadn't gone well. Fahim was dead, and all that remained where the contents of his laptop, and whatever could be pulled from pictures and phones. With a little luck they might be able to identify the gunmen that had ambushed him and Fahim. Going up that chain of corpses and people to who was really pulling the strings.

He raised a hand to scratch his neck, but stopped himself. The small bandage over the scratch made his skin itch. It wasn't so bad, but he knew he was lucky. Of course, that was the way it happened. In the thick of things, you don't notice the bullets coming at you. You just finish up. If you're dead, you don't notice a thing. If you're hit you feel the pain. If you're alive, you see the holes in your clothes.

Just the way of things.

The one thing that he was worried about was the one that got away. The one that had seen him. At least from afar. He had had to wear the eye patch to the meet. He had used a little cover, longer hair and the like. That would prevent a positive identification all the way back to who he really was. Hopefully, at any rate.

The eye patch. That could give him away if any existent data could link up to what the man had seen. Unfortunately, he hadn't been able to get a good look at that particular man. Only the other two. Whom they already had pictures of.

He closed his eye, still not sleeping.

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Former Army Ranger and Delta operator Ryan walked into his house, shutting the door behind him. He made sure to lock it behind him. It was something that he started doing ever since they had started the gig. Back when he was an official soldier and had lived in various locations when he was stationed in the US, it hadn't been necessary. Nobody was dumb enough to try to rob houses in the neighborhood completely inhabited by soldiers.

Now though, there were things in the dark that had to be defended against. Enemies right there, on their home soil.

The man walked into his house, hearing his wife in the living room. It had been a long day and he was tired. As he walked into the room, he saw her typing on her computer. She did some copywriting. A holdover from when he had simply been a soldier. Even the elite weren't paid that well. Double income households weren't exactly rare in the army.

"How did everything go?" Audrey asked, glancing over at her husband. She didn't expect a full answer. She'd been an army wife long enough to know that. Still, she cared, especially once she saw the tired expression on his face.

"Just another day at the office," Scott replied, leaning in and kissing his wife on the top of her head.

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Xander walked into the apartment and locked the door behind him. He left his bags there and looked into the kitchen where Vi was washing dishes. It was late afternoon and her classes had already ended. She had probably been studying and had made a snack.

He watched for a moment as she placed the finished dishes onto the rack beside the sink and wiped her hands on a towel. He walked over to her as she bent down and hung the wet towel on the handle to the cabinet beneath the sink.

Grasping her from behind, Xander leaned in and kissed the side of her neck. Her red hair tickled his cheeks.

"Xander," Vi giggled as she turned around to face him. She noticed the small bandage on his neck. "What happened?"

"Just a scratch," Xander said, muffled into her neck as he kept kissing his way to her lips.

Vi whimpered slightly as he managed to hit some particularly sensitive spots. He knew her too well at times.

Xander leaned back and looked her hungrily in the eyes. "I want you. Right now."

Vi smiled and embraced him, feeling Xander's hands as they unbuttoned her shirt. She knew that he was troubled. His conversation a week or so ago about what had happened in New York City had been proof of that. She felt bad about what had occurred with the mind controlled slayer. But, she knew where the fault lay. With the bastards that sought to use her sisters in such a way. Xander had promised to do his best to do what he could for any slayers that were under that Council's control. That was the best she could ask for or expect.

She felt Xander continue to touch her. His slightly rough hands felt intoxicating on her body. There was trouble and danger out there, but she knew that there would be time enough for that later. The slayer moved her arms around her boyfriend and pulled his shirt off as well. He had gained quite a bit of muscle, though he was fairly lean and flexible. The better to move. It wasn't like he was training for a weightlifting contest. Vi licked her lips as she pressed herself against him hard, feeling his excitement grow.

Xander took off her shirt, making sure that her arms were clear. He tossed it behind him before picking up the slim slayer and placing her on the empty counter space on the other side of the sink. He ran his hands up her toned stomach and up behind her back, feeling her shiver under his touch.

He smiled lovingly at the woman seated in front of him. Xander kissed her again softly as he unclasped her bra, letting it drop into her lap. He reached back in front, never taking his hands off of her smooth skin.

She gasped slightly in his mouth as she felt him cup her breasts. There would definitely be time to worry about the future later. Much later.

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Author's Note: It occurs to me that I haven't touched upon the thoughts of some of the supporting characters. Giles and the others haven't even appeared yet in this story. Though, I suppose if it was television, it would be in a spinoff like Angel was from Buffy. Hopefully, I can touch upon more of the various plotlines that are being interwoven. At least in more than just small bits and pieces.

I hope that Vi's characterization is multi-faceted. She was fairly badass in the first story I think and had her action moments in the second. Basically, I didn't want to make her simply the girl.

Also, I hope that Xander isn't too over the top. I figure it's after the first story so he's gained experience, training, and especially confidence. There's a reason why they let him do what he does, so he has to be good. Most of all, he's an adult now, with all the responsibility that entails. He's not invincible and he is being challenged, but his failures aren't due to screwups that he should know better than to do.

Thanks for the reviews. More please.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter 10: Logistics**

"So they've camped out about ten kilometers from your borders?" Xander peered closer at the maps that were spread out on the table. He traced the highlighted path on the main topographic map of the northern border region of Faerie territory in their home dimension. It was only a small segment of the border; testament to the size of the territory that they controlled. The fact that there were security issues that required more than the routine border patrols however, meant that control was less than total. As powerful as the Faerie were, they had become rather isolated and stagnate over the millennia when they had pulled back the majority of their ranks into only a few planes of existence. Magic had ruled, and the role of soldiers and warriors relegated to the backwaters. It was troubling. "This is the main route through the mountains?"

Richard looked at what the human had been looking at. "Yes. The only one accessible at the current time. It's an updated map with the most current rock formations. The yearly snowstorms are still upon us in the North. They managed to hide their presence in their chosen stronghold until a short while ago. The past raids along the other borderlines were just cover to move their soldiers and arms into position. Still, it will be a couple of months before they would be able to move. We need to get ready for them."

"The storms last that long?" Xander asked, pulling a couple of sheets of paper from the side of the table. He checked the average snowfall levels in the territory over the last couple weeks. They were still going strong.

The Faerie warrior shook his head. "Not exactly. The storms will abate in some time, but the temperatures will stay extremely cold until springtime. The snow gets packed and turns to ice. There is no way though the mountain passes until the Melt. Once the flood dies down, then we can expect to see movement inward."

"Which buys us some time," Xander stated. He pulled a map with a smaller scale that showed the northern territory as it was in relation to the central areas of the Faerie kingdom. "So exactly what are you asking me?"

"We need support to fortify our Northern position," Richard explained. He sat down at the table, next to Xander's position. He had taken a small apartment in New York City to work out of in order to accomplish his mission. Nothing too strenuous, and nothing that should require any physicality. While he was certainly an accomplished fighter, his rank meant that he had to be able to lead. And plan. "Our rangers and the majority of our forces are already utilized in combating raiding parties in the East and against pirates along the Western coast. We have sent what soldiers we could to start preparing positions, but it will be too little too late if that is all we have to rely on."

"Great," Xander replied, still looking at the map. He analyzed the markings that indicated fortification and strongholds that had been built along the mountains to protect against such eventualities. There were quite a few of them. But, over time the tide of battle had shifted elsewhere, and many of those bases had fallen into disrepair. Half of those indicated had already been scouted and had been determined to be useless in any coming campaign. What could be salvaged had been, and moved to the ones closest to the main enemy force. "What do you have going up there? And, what exactly do you need?"

"Three mixed battalions will be stationed along the front, along with the current forces we have stationed here," Richard pointed out the locations that they would be deployed in. "They're enroute now, picking up additional members and supplies along the way. Their first task will be to repair any stations that can be fixed. Secondly, they will send out scouts to see if we can determine exactly how large of an attack force is out there. Third, if an attack does come, we need to be prepared to repel it. And fourth, we need to find out exactly who is responsible for such an action. It is only a few months away from the Congress. The Melt will have occurred prior to it. A perfect time for a show of force prior to the meeting. It is too close to be a coincidence."

"And, you need support troops," Xander said. He pointed at the map at some of the less fortified positions to the flanks of the main rock mountain that held the main fortress. Caer something. He couldn't actually read the Faerie language. "Here, here, and here. You block that pass off, and you won't need another base on the left. Still, that's probably a couple of companies then at least. Cover these blind spots. And make sure that these three other passes are blocked off from enemy access. Smart. But, let's face it. If this is a real push, then my support troops aren't going to be all that much help. Especially if there's more forces than you imagine. You're talking border protection, if you're only looking for fighters on the ground, not defense against a real invasion. So, this is really about something else. Too."

"Correct." Richard nodded. "Border protection if push comes to shove. But, it is also a show of force of our own. Defense, along with foreign allies to demonstrate a combined front. Hopefully the show of force is enough to deter them from actually attack. Saber rattling, as you humans would say. Now, the ideal situation is to have them all in place in three months time at least. That'll give them a month to get used to the field. It'll take a month to travel the underground tunnels to that location."

"No faster way?" Xander asked, trying to run the calculations in his head. Time moved differently in their respective dimensions. As it did in many of the different dimensions in existence. The realm of Faerie and Earth were fairly close together time wise, but it still made the exact timing something of a chore to figure. By his calculation, he had until summer his time to move his forces into place. Hopefully. It wasn't an exact ratio all the time. "You know, it would be easier if you didn't calculate everything according to your frame of reference."

Richard shrugged. "I factored in as much time above ground as possible. The problem is that one you get closer to the mountains, you'll have to take the tunnels. It's the only way through during this time of year."

Xander rubbed a hand over his face. It had been a long couple of days. The hard drive had made it out okay and Fallon and some of the others in their computer section were ripping it apart. It had been encrypted, but was already providing data. Too bad none of it seemed to be much help to them. There wasn't much on Kestrel but for some details on his last assignment. Most of it he already knew. Still, there was background, which could be of help if they could determine when he had been recruited. And where. As it was, most of the useful information on the drive was simply on the guns that were running around Africa in various areas. Helpful to the military and the Agency and their operations in the area, but not to his own organization.

The cell phones they had pulled off the men hadn't helped either. The SIMM cards hadn't had any saved numbers, and there were no numbers in the lists of calls made, received, or missed. The easy stuff was a dead end. The harder part would be to find out where the phones came from. That would take longer. Wasn't his part of the mission though. That was one for the tech guys.

He worked his neck back and forth, trying to loosen it up. "Okay, so we need to up training on two companies worth of slayers, maybe a couple of wizards. They need to know the rules of your world in terms of what weapons will work, magic, and so on. That's going to take some time, but I already have some people working on it, so it really just comes down to the details to refine what they're doing now."

"So, it's doable then," Richard asked. He understood Xander's concerns. The rules of nature could vary on different worlds. Nothing could be taken for granted. Luckily for them both the atmosphere and gravity were fairly equivalent.

"I'll have to step it up," Xander replied cautiously. "But, I think it's doable. I'll need detailed layouts and all the information on what we can expect. Everything. I need to know what kind of abilities the enemy has, and what we have on our side."

"You'll get it," Richard stated. "Anything else?"

Xander considered. He knew some of what was out there in the Faerie kingdom, even if he had never been there himself. In some ways it read like a fantasy novel. The nature of the dimension meant that the majority of technology didn't work. Not just electronics. Even the laws of physics didn't seem to work as they did on Earth; probably why time went wonky. Guns didn't work, yet they functioned purely on chemical reactions. Why they didn't function was not yet known completely. It was theorized that the presence of certain metals, like iron, wreaked havoc on the natural order of things in that dimension. But, that didn't explain everything. Like why stuff like life still managed to pop up, even if chemistry in some cases didn't function.

So that meant no guns. They had crossbows with some kind of magically enchanted bolts. Better than the medieval ones in pure design at any rate. Still, swords and spears and the like where common. Magic managed to improve them somewhat, but it didn't keep them from effectively being just melee weapons.

No tanks. No jets. Everything pretty much had its biological equivalent. Some type of heavily scaled elephant thing for tanks. Gryphons for jets. They may not be as good as their metal cousins, but sometimes one had to make do with the hand one was dealt.

Battle magic existed. But, there were issues with using it on any sort of wide scale. As it was, sustained use was extremely tiring and limited to a fairly select number of people. From what Richard had told him, most of those capable had long since taken on less martial pursuits.

"I'll be frank," Xander turned to the Faerie. "None of these girls have ever seen war. I mean, real war. A couple of battles, but they always had home to go to. There were no fronts. No supply lines. They aren't prepared for this, and I can only do so much to get them ready. You can't treat them like frontline troops. They aren't soldiers."

Richard considered it. He knew that Xander had had them trained as much as he could. But, in function they did not operate as regular infantry did. As he had done in the past. "Then what did you have in mind?"

"Scouts. Marksmen. Strike teams," Xander threw out. "Look, they may be able to function as the equivalent of some type of special ops teams and do the guard duty and base defense, but the simple truth is that unless we're talking some significant investments, they won't be trained up for a war in your dimension in the relatively quick time we have."

"It doesn't take that long for a single soldier to go through what you call boot camp," Richard replied.

"Maybe so, but these aren't exactly normal circumstances. And, we've been training them for patrols. Missions against specific targets. Even the long term assignments they could expect are not what we're facing here," Xander said. The Faerie was right, but that assumed that they'd be operating in a world that they understood. As much as the slayers knew about other worlds and magic and such, it was nothing compared to actually being on an extended deployment over there. With all the fear, excitement, danger, boredom, drudgery, and occasional boredom it entailed. And, that didn't even really consider the laws that applied in the Faerie realm. "This'll end up being training for them too. Don't forget that."

Richard leaned back and considered it. "You're right."

"I guess that's it for now. Give me what you have when you have it. I'll talk to you later." Xander stood up, his cell phone ringing.

He picked it up and listened to the call. It was Dawn, from back in Cleveland. Evidently something had come up that Faith had requested his input on. From the tone, he could tell that there had been some disagreement on whether or not to bring him in. He could suspect a few people that would disagree.

"Look, just set up a time, and I'll come down. Maybe I can run it with my people, and see what's what," Xander said, breaking into Dawn's extended sentence. "Do you have anything you can send me? No, they're still writing it up? Trying to figure it all out? Okay, just make it soon then."

Xander said his goodbyes and put his phone away. He started walking towards the door to the apartment but turned around. "It was good seeing you again. And, I'm glad that we're on the same side of things for this."

Richard stood up and nodded. "Likewise."

"But, you know," Xander spoke, still looking at the Faerie. "I'm not actually some great military genius when it comes to large scale battle plans. And, uh, you probably should really have someone else look at this before you, you know, commit yourself firmly to any of this."

Richard just looked at him, and then nodded. "I understand. I'll let you know as soon as I have anything."

"Thanks," Xander said, turning around to leave.

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He had managed to catch a flight out to Cleveland pretty quick. Dawn had wanted to meet as soon as possible, and it had only been a couple of days from when he had met up with Richard. Xander hadn't had the best reaction when he had walked back in. Some of them were obviously glad to see him, but some of slayers, a disturbing number actually, looked at him with distrust. Evidently, his actions hadn't ingratiated him with all of the slayers as he had wanted. His own were all still on his side, as well as the ones that they had turned to his side. However, the ones that had been wary or were downright hostile to him were pretty adamant about their feelings. Evidently, Buffy coming back had had a bigger reaction than he had previously anticipated.

She had a way of controlling things and making people bend to her way. That was proving difficult.

"So, tell it to me straight. From the beginning," Xander said, leaning back into his chair. He had gotten there early to get some take on the situation before it could be run through the Watchers. Straight from the slayer's mouth as it was. It had been smart to bring Abby along with him. Some slayer loyalty had to have an effect on the others.

He uncapped a pen and put it onto his notepad. "Tell me a story."

"Okay. We heard that someone was running some cargo through the city. Demon muscle maybe backing things up, so we figured it might have deeper repercussions," Satsu said, as asked. "So we investigated. And, we hit them at a warehouse…"

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Earlier…

Satsu fired her silenced MP5. From her hidden position between two stacks of crates, she was able to hit three of the stocky demons in the head before they reacted with some semblance of intelligence. The magically silenced reports didn't help them figure out where the fire was coming from. So they shot at random.

The slayer ducked down behind some large wooden crates, as wild return fire came from a few human looking guys and the remaining demons dove for cover.

The team leader triggered her mike. "Leah, flank left, Shannon, right. Go now."

She felt rather than saw as her wingmen, or women, started to advance behind cover, carefully advancing and firing their own weapons. Satsu weaved through more crates, making her way to the office that the head of the operation was currently hiding in. He had moved quickly inside once the first bodies had fallen.

Bodies fell as accurate shots from her and her fellow slayers systematically wiped out the remaining henchmen.

"Come on out, Cheese," Satsu yelled out. She raked some fire across the back office of the dirty warehouse, the glass falling heavily into the room. "Your men are dead, you got no way out."

She looked around carefully, and made her way against a forklift that was used in their business. Most of the place had been haphazardly set up, with plenty of cover to hide behind.

"You got anything, Rowena," Satsu whispered into her com gear. She didn't need to look behind her to know that Rowena was currently in the rafters with a long rifle. She had been tasked with overwatch, and had taken out any of targets of opportunity during the initial attack.

"Nothing," Rowena replied, never taking her eye off of her sights. She didn't use a mate to watch her back in this case. Her spatial awareness and enhanced senses made it unnecessary. "Must be behind a desk or something. Going to thermal."

Rowena pulled a small pocket scope with her left hand, the rifle steady on her left leg before her. She took a quick scan of the office with it, noticing the cooler signs of the furniture and normal office equipment. She saw her target cowering behind a file cabinet.

She calculated the destination and her current line of fire, and determined that if need be, she could make the shot, even without visually sighting the rifle. She whispered again, "back corner. File cabinet."

"Roger that," Satsu said, crouching down behind a stack of iron boxes right before the office. She took out her near empty magazine and replaced it with a fresh one. The slayer glanced to her left and her right, making sure that the other slayers were in support positions with ready weapons. Nods in return and they were ready to move. Satsu triggered her mike again. "We're going for the capture. Rowena, watch for the flash. The rest, move with me."

Satsu pulled a flashbang from her belt and pulled the pin with her teeth. She braced herself and tossed it into the office, as close to the back corner as possible. She prepared herself to rush the room as soon as the three seconds to detonation were up.

The flashbang blew, but as Satsu rose to move in the office blew out. The sheet metal clad wall was no much for the thing that erupted from it. She stared at the hulking figure before her. Nothing like the skinny human looking fellow that they had prepared for. Evidently, their main target was not so human.

The lycanthrope howled once and started to run towards them. Satsu saw the werewolf react to rifle shots to the joints from Rowena as she sent some shots of her own at its head. It fell once, growling in agony. "Fall back. Fall back."

Satsu backed up, firing as she did. She watched as the wolf started to rise to its feet despite the other fire. She came to a stop a number of yards away from the slightly injured werewolf and came up with a plan. The slayer dropped her main weapon and pulled the katana that she had had sheathed to her back "Everyone, cover me. My signal. Get ready for it."

The slayer took a step back, going around some crates and made sure she had enough space to move. The werewolf had risen to its knees, and was shaking its head. "Go loud."

Shots from the three slayers still wielding guns pelted the werewolf. Technically speaking it wouldn't be enough to kill the lycanthrope. Not unless there was tremendous blood loss. Not a guarantee, unless helped along.

The bullets hit their mark in specific locations. Joints, especially large on such a beast. And the head. The eyes in particular. While it had enhanced smelling and hearing for hunting, it need its eyes to actually be able to take down an enemy. As most things did actually.

"Hold fire," Satsu said, as he started for the beast. She didn't think about why the monster had been able to shift its form in the day. All she cared about was to carefully move in as she swung her sword. Its magically enhanced edge cut clean through bone and the werewolf's head fell to the floor, away from its bleeding body.

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"Okay," Xander said. He was fairly impressed by the work. Nobody good got hurt, and all the bad guys went down with minimal risk. That wasn't precisely what he needed though. "That was some good work, Satsu. But, what's he been running? Dawn didn't tell me much, of well, much."

"Weapons mainly. Light arms. Some esoteric stuff that Linda's checking out, but that's not the interesting thing," Satsu replied. She leaned in closer in her chair next to Xander. Abby was beside her, looking proud. "We found some papers in the office. There's a shipment on a, uh, ship headed here."

"What's it carrying?" Xander asked.

"Something called Vernor Alstonvirus." Giles said, as he entered the conference room. Buffy, Faith, and Dawn followed behind. Only two of them seemed at all pleased to see the one-eyed man. And Faith, only kind of.

"Virus," Xander stated, standing up. He walked over and shook Giles' hand. Dawn hugged him, while Buffy just looked on. She didn't do anything directly antagonistic, but it was hardly friendly. Faith at least tossed him a friendly smile. "On a boat. That's not good. How have you guys been?"

"As well as can be expected, Xander," Giles replied, as he grasped Xander's hand. He did so stiffly, not expecting the greeting. Or Dawn's response. Buffy's was expected, given the amount of time that the slayer still spent on criticizing Xander. He partially agreed with some of the statements, though he was increasingly being forced to recognize the young man's thorough and extremely successful methods as that.

Xander retook his seat while the others took seats on the other side of the table. He didn't exactly feel the warmth. He waited until they had pulled out the paperwork and turned on their equipment before speaking, "so, virus. Where's this ship docking?"

"L.A. Harbor," Dawn put in, bringing up a file on her laptop. "In one and a half weeks. It's coming in on the Autumn Venture."

"Shit," Xander muttered under his breath. He wrote down the details on his notepad. "Worldport LA. Busiest port in the US. Okay, do we know where the ship is registered out of?"

"I thought you might ask that," Dawn read off of a file that she had brought up on her computer. "It sails under a Hong Kong flag. It's got a maximum capacity of 5,000 TEU's, whatever that means, and a crew of 12. Berthing for 24."

"That's not exactly light weight. The biggest ships can only do less than three times that," Xander remarked, looking at the young woman. She looked good. Professional even. She had certainly taken to her new profession. "It was already on its way here before you found out about it, so right now I am wondering what you're asking here. You seem to have this situation pretty locked down, and well. So why do you need my help again?"

"I'm wondering that myself," Buffy spoke for the first time during the meeting, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Like you said, the ship's already out at sea," Dawn ignored her sister's comment. "We couldn't stop it at its origin, and it's too risky to stop it once it reaches LA. Like you said, it's the busiest port in the world. Even if the virus is let loose at the harbor, there's going to be a whole lot of people killed."

"Right," Xander said, dropping his pen on the table. He had taken some notes during Satsu's retelling as well as some additional notes on Dawn's breakdown on the target. He leaned back and crossed his arms. "You need to stop it in transit. And, you're not exactly sure how you should go about doing it. That about it?"

Xander waited for a confirmation nod from the watcher in training. "Okay. Virus. Tell me about it."

"It's like magical Ebola," Giles said, looking at his own report. It had been printed out from one of their databases. He wasn't as adept with computers as Dawn, but he was able to use them, after some nagging from the young woman. "It was used in some past conflicts, but nothing in recent history. It was discovered…"

Xander sat straight up in his chair and raised a hand. His ears perked up that. If there was one thing he had learned about when he had been in Africa. It had been Ebola. He'd tangled with it being used as a weapon before. Seen its effects first hand, though it had never gotten reported anywhere. It was not something he wanted to go through again. "I don't need to know that. Ebola. Ebola, you said? It's like Ebola? Ebola's got a short incubation period. But, it's lethal. No spread. What exactly are we talking about here? End of the world bad? Tokyo subway bad? Terrorism or a viable tactical weapon as part of a war?"

"Longer incubation period. And, it takes a longer time to become lethal," Giles skipped to the important parts. "There's no cure, and its mystical nature means that its structure keeps changing. There's no treatment. It's always lethal, but it takes time and is easily transmittable once it works its way through a human body. Airborne. And fluid transmission."

"Hell of a weapon," Xander said. He didn't have to think about the implications. "Do we know if there's a buyer?"

"No," Dawn stated, checking her computer. "The papers recovered from the warehouse indicate that it was found in an abandoned temple in China and purchased by Chester "Cheese" Barrowman. Lucky find. The sellers didn't know what they had. It was to be brought here for safekeeping until he was able to secure a buyer. Well, not anymore."

"Why not pose as Cheese's men?" Xander asked, brainstorming aloud. "Intercept it as it comes through the port."

"The way that he works, we couldn't pretend to be his people," Satsu replied. They had done some recon on the subject prior to the attack. It didn't tell them everything, such as his other than human nature, but it did bear some fruit. "And, again, it's too big a risk since we don't know exactly how he had planned to get it through shipping. We couldn't find that out from what we got from his warehouse. And, we can't push harder since we had to cover up his death."

That was one of the decisions that had been made once they had started looking into the warehouse. With the leader and all his men dead, there was nobody to inform the boat crew of what was going on if no bodies or statements were made that he was dead. As far as the world was concerned, he was simply keeping quiet, at least until he stopped making meets.

"Okay. So it's dangerous, and presumably he's got a lot of it." Xander said. Stopping it in transit also meant that they had a lesser risk of an accidental release in a crowded area. It was smart.

"Most of the cargo on that ship are really just shipping containers of the virus," Dawn interjected.

"Okay," Xander replied, looking at the watcher in training. "So, I am still wondering. Why am I here? What is it about this virus that prevents you from just blasting it with magic or something?"

"Unfortunately, it's immune to those types of magicks," Giles answered. "We need to introduce a stabilizing agent into the containers that house the virus. That can't be added through magical means. And, an explosive or other such device would actually strengthen the virus. It would spread in a manner that it would not be able to ordinarily. That's partly why it makes an ideal weapon."

"Which means you guys want to hit the ship in person," Xander said, directing his gaze toward the lead Watcher. "Okay. So, still in the dark here."

Giles traded a glance with Dawn before turning back to Xander. "It was decided that we needed your input. Faith, suggested it as we were drawing up plans for an attack."

Xander turned to look at the slayer. "What's your suggestion?"

"Well, we basically hammered out that we'd need helicopters to fly a team out there," Faith said. She'd been the one to suggest the plan; one that was pretty much agreed upon. It was the details that were hanging things up. And, she knew enough to know that she didn't know enough to be able to plan and carry out an operation involving taking over a ship by dropping out of a helicopter. "But, I think we have some problems with exactly how to do it."

"It's a good plan, I don't see why we need to have him looking at it," Buffy said, fairly petulantly. She had already started work on finalizing the details of it. Including picking the team that would go with her. It would be an ideal assignment for having her own team practice, and show the rest of the slayers that she still had it and should be the one leading the fight.

"What kind of helicopter are you planning on using?" Xander asked Faith. He ignored the other slayer's statement. On the one hand, she was obviously trying to help, but hardly in the best way possible. Best of intentions, but carry through was the issue. Unfortunately, that was the case with many things.

"We have access to a Bell 204," Faith responded, glancing at the other slayer. "Robin's got a pilot's license now. It can be in LA in time."

"Right. Civilian Huey. That's what, 300 nautical mile limit." Xander did the calculations in his head. "Factor in roundtrip, payload, mission time, safety factor, you're looking at maybe hitting it a hundred miles or so from where you take off. Giles, what kind of range are we looking at if the cargo blows and the virus is released that close to shore?"

"Uh, the capacity for transmission through air is relatively small. It'll die out before it reaches land," Giles replied, reviewing his files.

"Okay. What about through the water?" Xander asked, mentally reviewing the methods of transmission possible. It was something only tangentially touched upon in his research. The weaponization of viruses and diseases wasn't generally considered a viable tactic in his own personal war. While it wasn't unknown, as this case was proving, it also wasn't something that he would necessarily personally be working on. "Anything else?"

"That's the problem. It can survive in water for up to 24 hours. And, it isn't limited to only airborne and fluid transmission in humans. In fact, my research indicates that it can infect certain other creatures. It may not be intended to kill marine life, but it can infect them." Giles put down his paperwork and looked Xander in the eye. "That could be even more of a problem. This virus was engineered to kill humans, not animals. The lethality there is nowhere near as absolute. And, once an animal is infected it can be transmitted through ingestion."

"Fish. Poisoned fish. The day keeps on getting better." Xander said, his mind going to that old Joker plan. If only it had stayed in the pages of comic books. "Okay. Okay. What's the weather supposed to be like when you plan on making the strike?"

"There's supposed to be a storm coming in. We thought it could help cover our approach," Faith answered. "We can help that along with a little magic if need be."

"Do we know what kind of sensors the ship has?" Xander asked. He considered the use of magic. It didn't directly effect the cargo, so it should be okay. Giles didn't object at any rate. Disruption spells on the ship's sensors might be risky considering how close they would be to the cargo. Too risky. "If it's running illegal goods, it might not have the standard civilian package. Same thing with armaments."

"It was decided that they wouldn't have anything we needed to worry about." Faith cast a quick look at Buffy.

Xander nodded, slowly. The plan so far was rather haphazard. It wasn't bad, but it was nowhere near detailed enough to cover the bases. "Okay. Okay. It's not bad. It's workable. I can definitely see it working. Good job, but we need to detail the sucker. Okay, let's do this right. Let's start with the objective. Let me see the plans for the ship."

"Uh, we don't have that." Dawn pulled out the only details that they had on the ship from a folder she had brought with her. She slid the stapled papers across the table to the man. "Yet. We have someone working on it."

Xander pulled the papers closer and looked through them. It was just the basic details that a net search on the subject would provide. As well as the promo material that a potential buyer would receive if he was in the market for a cargo ship. "Okay, I'll have someone look at this and see if we can expand it too. Work up how to go through the ship. The most important thing right now is to figure out to get our forces down there without being seen."

"Simple, we use rope under cover of the storm. Move in fast, before they have a chance to react." Buffy stated, trying to contribute. She had already played through the thing in her mind. A team of slayers rope down on the ship and make its way through the ship to the virus. They would render the virus inert and then go out the same way that they came in. Simple.

Xander schooled his features and made sure not to react. Buffy was mixing the intention of what they were doing with the actual methodology. She did have a tendency to see the goals without trying to come up with working solutions to achieve them. As if she could get the end result through sheer force of will. It made her strong and sure, but it also blinded her when her first plan didn't work.

He looked at the gathered people in the room. Satsu. Abby. Dawn. Faith. Giles. Buffy. In truth, they all had experience in different areas. Some of it directly related to battle, and some more related to the logistical help that was always required with conducting a battle or mission such as this. The key was to have the proper mix of input from the planning part as well as the part that carried out the plans. "Okay. Let's imagine the worst case scenario. Quick deployment. From a helicopter. Onto a ship. In rough seas."

From the expressions of most, it looked like the Watchers' Council personnel didn't quite get it. Xander smiled at them. "That means Ranger style. Now, everyone raise your hand if you're fast-rope qualified."

He raised his right hand and looked at the rest of them. Abby raised her hand also. As did Satsu, having completed the training only a week ago. No practical experience.

No one else at the table raised their hands.

"Now. Do the rest of you even know what it means?" Xander said. He knew that it sounded arrogant, but it had to be said. It was easy enough to imagine a scenario where you come out on top. Making it a reality was another thing entirely. The end result was just that. Everything came before it. With the proper amount of planning. Doing otherwise was foolhardy and downright dangerous.

The rest didn't say anything.

Xander took a breath and held it for a moment before letting it out through his nose. "This is what I'm thinking. Use descenders to rappel, or fast-rope if necessary, a team to the ship. I have men that are qualified for it. We can have a witch on the chopper to determine how many people are on board, maybe. The weather clouds their sensors, or we cast a masking spell on the chopper itself. A small strike team goes in with submachine guns and takes out everyone onboard. Introduce the stabilizer to the containers. Neutralize the virus. And then set scuttling charges and exfil on the helicopter after blowing the ship up. There are details, but that's the gist of it."

Buffy considered what he had just said. It sounded pretty much like her own plan. Mostly. Just with more words. And guns. "And the crew?"

"Crew's expendable." Xander responded quickly. He raised a hand as his old friend seemed ready to protest his flippant remark. "I know. I know, I'd like to grab a prisoner to figure out how the virus was able to be smuggled through Hong Kong customs too. However, I think that given the danger that this weapon poses and not knowing what those sailors might do if confronted, that we'd best concentrate on the primary objective. Destroying the virus before it can kill anybody. Anyone have a problem with that?"

Buffy looked at Giles with a beseeching look in her eyes. Giles just ignored her. "I believe you're right, Xander. Good work."

Xander nodded, satisfied that at least the head Watcher was listening to him. There was also the matter of having Americans attack a ship under a foreign flag and essentially commit piracy. They would have needed to kill everyone on board and destroy the ship anyways. Just to cover their tracks. They didn't need to know that though.

"There is one thing though," Giles continued. "It will take much precision to be able to neutralize the virus. There's only a couple of people here that can do it. And there's not enough time to train someone to do it right the first time. Your people will need to bring along a passenger."

"Right." Xander ran it through his head again. He thought about what would be needed to mount an operation of the scale, while simultaneously keep his cover. At this point, it was actually wearing a bit thin. He was actually somewhat surprised that Buffy or Giles hadn't figured out that he was directly working for the government. Maybe their past experiences with the Initiative made her think that that was impossible. "We might have to rig a descender for one at the very least. Okay. It adds some time, but might not be a deal breaker. Look, I got things to do. And, I might be able to get you a better chopper. Sikorsky maybe or something. My betters have a S-92 that we should be able to use for this. That would add a lot more time and room if things don't go peachy. Dawn, I need what you have on this, as much as possible. On Cheese and anybody that we can expect on that ship. Also, the details of the ship's specs. Sensor packages. Ranges, etc. Giles, I need to know everything about that virus. We'll need to come up with NBC gear or something most likely. I want to know that ASAP, so we can get it prepped before we move on this. You have my e-mail, so just encrypt your files and send it through to me when you got something."

Xander looked as most of the others looked at him without speaking. Surprise was clearly evident. He wondered if they mistook his confidence and attitude for arrogance. At least, he hoped it was confidence. The Level 6 agent grinned at them again. "I didn't spend all this time sleeping you know. This is the way things go people. It's the 21st century. You all need to start acting like it."

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"This is great stuff," Mira said, putting down the rough story that Ray had finished only an hour ago. "Throw in that sketch that the Egyptian police have just finished compiling and we have our front page story. Get it done quick and it may even go out for the Friday edition."

"Glad you liked it." Ray leaned back in his chair. Pleased with himself. It was the first piece on what he hoped would be a series that would eventually lead to fame and fortune. Well, fame at any rate. "So we good for Friday's paper?"

"Definitely, if everything gets verified and checks out," the editor answered. She looked at the other reporter that had contributed to the story. "So how was it?"

"Good," Alex said. She had been the one to come up with using some of the background that they had figured out in order to establish a timeline. Instead of making the whole story about his recent activities, they had decided to start at the beginning. Or at least as much of the beginning as they knew to the story that was One-Eyed Jack. It bought them time while they tried to piece together how the latest reports out of Cairo fit into the Jack puzzle.

While much of the story was supposition and rumor, there was enough fact mixed in to make it actual news. The way it was structured made the mythos and the very uncertain nature of the mercenary a part of the story itself. "Ray has been a great teacher. And, I've learned a lot. I think the story is best work we've ever done."

That was something of an overstatement considering that the young reporter hadn't actually published that much.

"Good." Mira said, turning back towards the old journalist. "Get to work on your verifications. Make sure that everything checks out. This will be big. I don't want any surprises. And start thinking about your next piece. The public will undoubtedly be asking for more."

"Yes, m'am," Ray said, standing up. It wasn't exactly hosannas, and, closer to faint praise. But, he'd take it.

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"Scott's team. A Sikorsky. And, we have to take one of them along," Lampkin rubbed his chin as he read over the report that Xander had submitted for the next mission. The resources that would have to be allocated were astounding. At least, from what the Watchers' Council had figured. "The danger level on this, are you sure that they've accurately presented the level of risk?"

Xander nodded. "I trust the people that came up with this. The danger on this is real. Now, what's it going to be?"

Lampkin looked at the report again, before putting it down on his desk. "There have been concerns about our activities. Egypt was not clean. Our sources say that they managed to get some eyewitness reports and that there was some video from a tourist that was on site. People, meaning our betters, are getting worried."

"I saw the shots. The police sketches look nothing like me. Like us." Xander defended his team. He knew that that reporter was still running around. He was working on his stories and was getting closer to something that could be printed. Of course, without authorization he was reluctant to act.

"Be that as it may, the people upstairs are still getting anxious. They don't like the publicity," the assistant director said. "I'm authorizing this mission. We're in charge. Not them. And, I want you up there if Cindy has to be there to provide magical support for this."

"Yes, sir." Xander nodded.

"If the person that the watchers are sending learns to much, or becomes too much of a liability…," Lampkin spoke carefully. He made sure he had the young agent's attention. "You're ordered to execute them. Leave the body with the ship when it sinks. Do you understand?"

Xander nodded again. "Yes, sir."

"I mean it, Xander," Lampkin stated firmly. "The president has decided in his infinite glory that this organization will eventually go public. As such, we cannot simply blow shit up anymore without repercussions. The PATRIOT Act still has its limits. This is the way that the wind on the Hill is blowing. I know you have a tendency to act as you see fit. And, truthfully, you're usually right. But, these are your orders. There's no room for interpretation. If need be, or if ordered, you will execute him."

"Yes, sir," Xander repeated himself, with equal firmness in his voice.

"And, one more thing," Lampkin added. "The reporter. We're not allowed to sanction anymore. Evidently, assassinations on American citizens is frowned upon under the current administration's thinking. Today, anyway. I guess he's thinking about elections next year."

"So, what happens if he prints something about me?" Xander asked.

"He's not to be touched." Lampkin looked his agent in the eye. "I mean it Xander. I'm sure you can have someone take him out. Even make it look like an accident, but don't. Trust me, you do not want to take on the president on this. Nobody knows who you are yet. You're still seen as a mercenary. Let the story build, and make sure you keep your head down. Get me?"

"Yes, sir," Xander nodded.

"Look, I don't like it any more than you do. This here is hard time for us if we get caught doing anything illegal. And that's only if he's being lenient. We could get executed for treason if we act without authorization." Lampkin didn't know if Xander was actually agreeing to follow orders or not anymore. "I mean it. Keep your identity a secret and we'll do our best to make sure that this doesn't get out. Within the confines of our current orders. That's the best we can do."

Xander sighed. "Yes, sir."

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Xander watched as Vi finished getting ready for dinner. She was currently putting on a pair of earrings in the bedroom, looking at the mirror that was mounted on the wall above the dresser.

They had a lot more space than they had in his old place, even though it was still an apartment. A larger TV. A larger bed. A dresser for him and one for her. A mirror too, so she could make herself presentable.

"Do you ever wonder about how things would have been," Xander said, looking at her back. He was seated on the bed, already ready to go out. The various operations that he had going on were in their planning stages needed work done by others to set up. It was still a day job for the time being. "How things could have been?"

"What do you mean?" Vi asked, turning around, having finished.

He looked at her. She looked good, as she almost always did. Little makeup, not that she needed it. "I mean, if we'd never met. Or at least, never did this. And you were just a relatively normal girl in college."

The slayer looked at him, concern on her face. She shook her head and spoke, "no. Never. I would never even be in college if it wasn't for you. What's this about?"

"I don't know, it's just, you're young and in college," Xander said, hesitantly. "I mean, you should be out partying and having fun and stuff. Or so I imagine is what goes on in your typical college environment. I don't imagine that American Pie 2 is the best indicator. Not, doing this you know?"

"Doing what?" Vi walked closer to the bed and sat down on it, next to Xander. She put, pushed his legs further on to the bed and moved in closer. Her arms went around his neck, and she puller herself close. "Hanging out with my boyfriend?"

"Vi, I mean, you ever think that maybe you'd be better off with someone else?" Xander asked, tensing a bit at her touch. In truth, he wasn't all that good at being properly romantic. What he knew from experience, he mostly got from a lifetime of friendship with girls that didn't do the whole typical romance thing. And therefore, from movies. Lots of movies. John Cusack had game. Anya, his longest relationship prior, hadn't exactly been normal. Even trying to do the normal things ended up strange given her experience. So he really wasn't the suave type. He could do sincere, and that was about it.

Vi had lived a pretty sheltered existence. Not as bad as Kendra, but it did show when they were together. Her innocence, her sensitivity, her kindness. Xander wasn't sure exactly what had been different between what Vi had gone through versus Kendra, but he knew that whatever watcher had raised her, it had been at least somewhat broader in experience than what Kendra had gone through.

He knew that a lot of what he did for her was all a bunch of clichés, but it didn't mean that his feelings weren't there. And, Vi loved the stuff, having no real experience of them prior to their relationship. So he did it. It felt mechanical though. Like it was all done by rote. The analytical part of his mind telling his body what to do more effectively be Vi's boyfriend. To anticipate and carry out what she wanted and needed.

It didn't mean he didn't love her though. He did that. He definitely did that.

"Never," Vi stated, taking his face in her hands. "If you had never been there, and I had been called, then who knows what would have happened. Without the training you helped provide. I do know that I'd be in a much worse place without you, even if I had never been called. Never been a potential."

"I don't know," Xander said, blinking hard. "It's just, I worry about you. I worry about letting you down. And, something happening to you because I wasn't quick enough. Or smart enough. Or good enough."

"You don't think I feel the same way about you?" Vi smiled briefly. It was heartbreaking how he felt at times. How much he loved her and felt that he didn't deserve her. "You are a good man. And a good friend. The things you've done for us. For me. The things you've sacrificed. No matter happens, I know that I'm better off here with you, than anywhere else. No matter what happens."

Xander nodded encouragingly.

"I know how you see me," Vi continued, wanting to voice some of her own concerns. She knew that she loved him. And that he loved her. But, there was a part of her that didn't know if she should be the one that he was with. "Sometimes I just don't know if I can live up to that image you have of me."

"Don't worry." Xander returned the smile. While she had been something of a lifeline for him in the past, she had become much more than that. Much more than a sympathetic ear. There was more than that, more than a physical attraction. She had so much light and life, strength and kindness to her that it had been impossible not to fall for her. "You do. You do."

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Author's Note: It had occurred to me that the relationship between them ended up being a bit sappy. I wanted there to be a reason for it, aside from not really being able to write dialogue that didn't end up sounding hackneyed to me. I hope it turned out okay.

And, I did bring back Buffy, and tried to keep my loathing of her to a minimum. Hopefully it didn't descend to purely bashing her character.

That said, no reviews for the last chapter? That makes me a bit blue. 


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter 11: Geography**

London…

Lyle watched as Shawn fired his handgun down the firing range. He used a scope to check how well the new member of the team was doing. It was a number of solid hits, but nowhere near what he would have wanted for a member of his team to score. Pretty good, for an amateur. For someone that he may eventually have to have watch his back, it was nowhere good enough.

Lyle sighed as he put the spotting scope down. He looked at the newest hire. Shawn was some nephew twice removed or something of one of the men that he was working for. Another low level Council flunky. While he was fit, and at least knew had to handle a weapon, the younger man wasn't really someone he would have picked for the job. Young and pretty fresh from some university, Shawn was to have started with the Watchers' Council if it hadn't gotten hit. The 24 year old man had been picked for the field watchers. To start with raising a potential, and maybe get a slayer one day. After the latest one died. Course that wasn't going to happen, for a number of reasons.

"Do it again," Lyle said, to the shaggy haired brunette. The boy needed a haircut, but that was the least of his problems with the kid.

"What?" Shawn asked, as he put the gun down. He took off his ear protectors and laid them next to his handgun as well. He waved a hand down the range. "Look at that. That's some bloody good shooting, that is."

"No. It sucks. What the hell do you think you're joining here? The goddamn scouts?" Lyle shouted at the man. "The only reason you're here is because the last guy got killed. Cause he couldn't hack it. So do it again. Right this time."

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California…

"You've got to be kidding me," Cindy said, as she stopped packing her stuff. She looked towards the open end of the warehouse towards the three people that were walking towards them. "That's who they're sending with us?"

It was Buffy, Dawn, and Andrew that had made the trip out back to California. The witch was able to pick out who it would be pretty quick. At least, some of the way. Buffy was obviously out, since the description of the virus they had received indicated that the technician they'd need to bring along would have to be pretty smart with things. Technical things that didn't involve pointy sticks jabbed into flesh bits. Which left Dawn or Andrew. Dawn was out, since if it had been her, it would have been previously mentioned at the meeting. No, the head Watcher, Giles, for probably obvious reasons had declined to mention the identity until pretty recently. Like, so she hadn't heard about it until seeing it for herself.

"Yeah," Xander said, obviously unhappy about it. He'd asked for someone else, nearly anybody else, when Giles had told him about who was the most qualified. Unfortunately, Giles had managed to convince him that Andrew was the most qualified. As unlikely as that may have seemed. Evidently, being stuck in research gave a man a lot of researching time. "Apparently, he reads a lot now."

"Why couldn't he just surf for porn like normal people," Cindy grunted as she ran another inventory on her gear. Her mundane equipment as well as the magical. It paid to be prepared, especially in cases such as these. She knew that Xander was younger than her, and hardly what one might call officially trained. But, she'd seen him work. She knew that he could be relied upon to do the job right. The whole team was like that. Bringing in outsiders was enough to make her wary. Especially ones that had the reputation that two thirds of the group walking to them had. "He better not screw up."

Xander chose not to say anything. He made sure that the magazine he was holding was fully loaded before placing it onto the table in front of him. They still had the final briefing to go through, and had to wait a few more hours until the paint on the helicopter dried. They also had to wait until night fell to cover their approach. The man checked to make sure that all his other gear was prepared and accounted for while he waited for the others to walk up to them from where they had parked on the other side of the warehouse. He knew that Buffy had managed to finagle her way onto the team that would at least partially oversee the mission. He didn't know how she had managed to get the spot over Faith, but he suspected it had something to do with Giles. Whether it was to keep an eye on him or because the watcher wanted Buffy to learn something was something he couldn't figure out yet.

The rest of the warehouse was filled with other vehicles, tables and equipment. A mobile headquarters had been laid out, with enough communications gear and other electronics to just about run an invasion of Cuba. Their own mobile tactical operations center. From Buffy and Andrew's expressions, they weren't used to seeing that much gear up and running for what she had previously thought would be an easy operation. Dawn, at least, had been in the TOC in Alaska.

The men and women needed to run the operation were walking about, performing their functions. Only the guards at the entrance paid more than a second look towards the trio of outsiders. They knew what they were doing, but weren't up on what made Cindy and Xander wary.

"Just warms your heart, don't it?" Xander smirked, looking over to the witch that was fiddling with some sort of dried stick. It was a rather odd looking rain stick that would probably be used in some type of magic that he didn't understand.

"Oh, it warms something alright." Cindy shook her head. She didn't know the man personally. But, she'd heard the stories, read the reports. Nothing impressive in any of them. There were good watchers over there, no doubt. Good researchers. Xander wouldn't have let that slide over there, even if his own expertise tended toward the more physical. Andrew, wasn't much of either. Decent enough when it came to researching stuff, or reading something in one of the languages he knew, but she had to face it, it wouldn't be that hard to train an intern from some college grad program on ancient languages to do the same thing.

She wondered why Xander tolerated Andrew's presence in the Council, although she knew that her boss had made sure that the boy had been moved to the place of least potential damage.

The slayer was someone that she'd heard about as well. She knew that some of it was likely filtered through Xander's critical eye, but even from the other slayers she knew enough to know that despite Buffy having been a slayer longer than any of the rest, that she'd rather have Abby watch her back. Good thing that Abby would be part of the support team on the drop over the Council slayer.

Dawn wasn't bad at any rate. Probably the only one in the group from the Council that didn't make the witch want to grimace. How utterly ironic that she wouldn't be going along with them.

"How was the flight?" Xander asked, as the trio walked up to them. He noticed Buffy's eyes go over him, judging him most likely. From her expression, he didn't think he measured up very favorably.

He smirked, though inwardly he knew he should probably at least try to make some peace. Maybe it was just the nervous energy before a mission. There was more risk involved. From the mechanics of flying a chopper in bad weather to bringing an outsider along with them. He wasn't normally like that. "Like what you see what see? I know, it's not a black leather duster, but at least it keeps the bullets from penetrating my tender little body."

Xander felt the nudge to his ribs. He tried to calm down.

"Hi," Dawn said, as she looked at what Xander and Cindy had been working with. It wasn't a surprise to the watcher, but it did impress her when she saw it. "How are things going? Almost time?"

"A few more hours," Cindy said, packing the last of her gear. "Nightfall and all that."

"What's with the helicopter?" Andrew looked at the chopper that was resting in the back of the warehouse, near the water. It had been painted matte black, though lighter grey and red lines and curves were painted all over it. It had to be some sort of magic, but he didn't recognize any of it.

"It's called camouflage." Cindy looked at the watcher. "If you didn't know that, what exactly was your plan on getting past ship's radar? I mean, you go in a big shiny metal bird, and somebody on board has an RPG or something, well, what's your plan then? Hope they miss?"

Andrew didn't say anything.

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"Alright everyone, let's get this over with," Lampkin shouted across the warehouse. He paid particular attention to the less than friendly banter that was going on with his lead agent and the newcomers from the Watchers' Council. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but he could tell that it was less than agreeable. Butting heads hours before a mission wouldn't do anyone any good at all.

He waited until the rest of the people had taken seats in front of the board he had set up before starting the final mission prep.

"Okay, here's how it's going to play," the field director started.

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Over the Pacific Ocean...

Xander had his eye closed, his head against the side of the helicopter. It was bucking up and down in the weather. It wasn't that windy in their particular area of the sky, but the rain wasn't making things any easier. Cindy probably had some type of spell going that would help keep the helicopter stable in flight. He knew from the looks out of the windows that he had taken earlier that there was a pretty heavy storm going on outside. Normally he would have hoped it would die down. Now, he hoped it kept hitting.

The strains of some song by Black Sabbath that he didn't know filled the back of the helicopter. Cindy's pick no doubt. It didn't make him want to smile, but it was something familiar. And calming.

The mission briefing had gone as well as could be expected. They had a plan. It was a good one, or at least as good as could be made considering the assorted factors that they had to contend with. At least nobody asked any stupid questions or unnecessarily tried to insert themselves.

He opened his eye and looked around at the assembled team. The red light that filled the back of the chopper made things eerie. Scott and his team were fully ready. He could tell from their expressions that they were mentally reviewing the plan that they'd been given. Abby was over by Cindy, watching the witch work her magic on the helicopter. He nodded at the slayer as she briefly turned his way.

Andrew was next to him. The Council man was anxious and trying to talk to him. He ignored it though.

"One minute," the co-pilot called out.

Xander nodded to himself as he pulled the gas mask from his lap. It had a detachable set of night vision goggles attached and would function to keep them from dying from accidental exposure to the virus. The night vision wouldn't necessarily be that helpful, but every bit helped. He put it on his head, making sure it fit properly.

The others did the same, snapping on their masks, and readying their weapons.

The door man pulled the door open when they were ten seconds from their target. The wind sent rain into the open cabin. With his night vision goggles he scanned the aft section of the ship that they would be landing on. It was clear.

The man lowered his weapon and tossed the thick ropes that they would be sliding down out of the chopper. It took some doing, but they managed to end where they were supposed to. Right on the back of the deck, well away from anybody on board.

"Good to go," the man said, holding the first line straight.

Scott nodded as he grasped the line and slid down it. Scott's other men followed quickly on the others.

Xander waited until it was his turn. He grasped the thick line tightly with his gloved hands, and stepped out, falling quickly down to the line to the deck of the ship, the wind knocking him about slightly. The line was dry though. More of Cindy's preparation. He wondered how any special ops team managed to get anything done without their own personal magician.

He landed with a soft thud, moving away from the landing zone as he grabbed up his submachine gun and looked around. So far, nobody had noticed them. He heard rather than saw as Abby slid down the line as well. So far, so good.

Xander looked over and nodded as Scott indicated that the area was clear. He triggered his mike. "Area's clear. Send the rest down."

Cindy floated her way down, manipulating gravity to slow her descent. It wasn't flying, but it was a lot easier and lot less energy intensive. She hit the deck without a sound. A quick glance up at the helicopter and an eye flash and she recharged the helicopter's magical protection for another fifteen minutes.

Andrew, on the other hand, fell disjointedly down the line, his descender working hard to keep him from moving too quickly. Oscar moved to help the watcher land, unhooking the line quickly and giving the signal for the helicopter to drop the ropes and move into a holding pattern.

Xander crouched down behind a large crane mounted to the back of the container ship, and waved the rest of the team over. Scott and the others were already readying themselves for their assault, having bundled up the ropes and bringing them over to Xander.

"Here's the charges," Cindy said, lugging the heavy bag that she had floated down with her to her team leader.

"Thanks." Xander shoved the bag under the crane and waited until the others had arrived. "Okay, we'll wait here until Scott's finished. Abby, you'll keep watch. Cindy, see if you can magic us up some intel. Keep on the radio and let Scott know where the targets are."

He looked over at the commander of his beta team. "Scott, good luck."

The former soldier was garbed in all black. Armor going over his suit, web gear on top of that. The balaclava and gas mask and goggles made him look other than human. Mostly standard military equipment, but it certainly did look impressive. And made the man all but invisible in the darkness of the rainy night. The lights of the ship didn't cut too deeply into the black, and the nooks and crannies all around would help cover their approach. That was the plan anyway. "Thanks."

Xander watched for a moment as the team faded away into nothing. He knew that all he would hear would be breaking glass. He might see some flashes of gunfire, but that was it. With Cindy working magical recon, and the element of surprise, they shouldn't be facing anything too bad. They were going to be careful, but it wouldn't be any more dangerous than anything else they'd ever done at this point. It was almost unfair. Of course, only an idiot would want to try for a fair fight. Personal glory and honor wasn't worth it when innocent lives were at stake.

He turned and kept watch himself. The green tint made things somewhat difficult to make out, but he'd used the night vision goggles long enough to be able to fight just as effectively with them on as without.

Now all he had to do was wait. And hope.

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Andrew stared at the corpse that was lying face up on the deck of the ship. There was a bullet hole in his forehead, and one through his left eye. It wasn't the first time he had seen a dead body, but the closeness of the other bodies and the casual way that he knew that the man had been dispatched was making him increasingly nervous. Mainly because he knew that at any moment one of those guns could be turned on him, and he would not be able to do anything about it. They hadn't let him carry a weapon.

"That's the last one," Oscar said, as he stood up after planting his charge. The detonator's LED glowed a bit in the darkness of the cargo section of the container ship. He looked over at the watcher whom he expected to actually start quaking in his boots. In other circumstances he might actually have found it amusing. "You done yet kid?"

"Uh, yeah." Andrew turned away from the dead body. He walked up to a table that had been bolted to the deck and looked at some papers that were strewn about its steel surface. He couldn't make out what any of it meant, but it let him look at something less unsavory.

Neutralizing the tanks full of virus hadn't been that hard. He had been nervous the whole way through, but he'd had the information drilled into him enough times to ensure that he would do it right.

"Time to go," Scott said, as he placed his last charge. The actual assault hadn't been that difficult. They'd hit the bridge first, firing into the room and killing everybody before they could so much as shout, let alone get out a call on a radio. Going level by level, with Cindy's help, and taking out everybody on board hadn't taken much time either. There had only been fifteen men onboard. And with directions to exactly where they were, it had been easy. If only all missions were like that. Too bad tactical magical enemy finding was limited to short range.

Xander nodded, as he looked through the room. There really was nothing of interest on board. No little clues that would lead somewhere else. At least, nothing in English. That made it a bit harder.

"Xander, check this out," Cindy sent to him telepathically. She moved closer to the table that Andrew was near and picked up a couple of papers. She had caught sight of some familiar characters, and skimmed it quickly. It confirmed her initial glimpses.

"What's up?" Xander replied, as he walked over to the witch. He looked down at the papers. They weren't written in English. Or bad Spanish. The only two languages he could read. There were a couple of numbers that had been written in English that he could read though. Payment terms maybe. Whatever it was, it was high.

"The Frenchman." Cindy sent telepathically. She noticed the watcher move away as Xander walked closer. It was almost enough to make her smile.

Xander glanced around, nobody else was looking at them. He took the papers from his witch and looked at them again before shoving them into a pocket. "Thanks."

"Behind you," Cindy said, indicating the direction with her chin. She tried to hide her grimace. "The wannabe."

Xander didn't need to turn around. He knew that Andrew had just seen what he had done. He knew what his orders were. Or at least the request from Giles. Supposedly he was supposed to share with them anything found onboard the ship. On the other hand, he was supposed to maintain security and secure anything of value for the agency to review. That was the orders he had been given and actually had the intention of following.

Then there was the fact that it was the Frenchman. Not exactly one of the most impressive of what could be called villains in the world, but he was meeting his ambition with some amount of skill. And, the Council couldn't stay in the kiddie pool forever. They had their uses, even if it might end up only being as a training ground and a source of information.

"What are you going to do?" Cindy asked. She knew the look on his face. It was the look that resulted in more bodies hitting the floor.

He knew that he was technically allowed to kill the watcher. Of course, with Buffy breathing down his neck, there'd be too many questions if Andrew ended up dying on his first time out with him. With the Council as it was, and something of a small corps revolving around Buffy and her surprising cult of personality it wouldn't do to act like a total villain. With Giles' only cautious acceptance of him back, he wouldn't have the pull with the higher-ups to keep that reputation from being spread around, with Buffy's less than sympathetic spin. As it was, he hadn't had the time to work with them closely. Things had settled down to a routine, and Buffy was slowly being accepted back. He had his own, but Buffy wasn't doing to shabby.

"I'll handle it." Xander turned toward the hatchway out. "Let's go."

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Xander watched as Abby hooked the fast ropes they had used onto a cable dangling from the hovering helicopter. With nobody watching the chopper was able to move in lower. The ropes were winched up quickly, and the empty cable was lowered down again. They would hook themselves onto it and raise themselves up to get back onboard the helicopter.

"Get your men out of here," Xander told Scott. He patted him on the back before the former soldier had walked closer to the cable to link up. "You did good."

Scott nodded, and watched over at the first of his men as they hooked themselves onto loops attached to the cable. It would take a number of trips before everyone was onboard. Especially with the still pounding rain. He looked over at the watcher that was struggling to keep his footing on the moving deck.

He hooked himself up on the cable and looked back at Xander before he went up. Xander had removed the mask he had been wearing, but had left his night vision goggles in place. He couldn't tell from Xander's expression, but even if he had seen the one eyed man's face, he honestly wouldn't be able to tell if Andrew would be joining them on board.

"So it's my turn, I guess?" Andrew questioned, nervously as he watched the slayer of the team ascend back onto the helicopter.

Xander just looked at him for a moment. "Not quite."

He reached back his fist and punched Andrew square in the jaw. It wasn't with his full strength, as that would likely have broken the other man's jaw and probably would have sent the man into unconsciousness. He didn't want that. Not yet at any rate.

Xander grabbed the watcher's collar as Andrew lay sprawled out on the slippery deck of the ship. He dragged the dazed watcher over to the starboard side of the cargo hauler and pushed him nearly halfway over.

"What…what are you doing?" Andrew barely made out. He had to shout to be heard over the wind and the rain. Despite the cold, he was sweating. Not that it could be seen through the rain.

"I know what you saw," Xander shouted. He bent the man lower over the edge, making sure that he had a good enough grip and a good enough stance not to let the watcher go, or fall over himself. "You're thinking you're going to tell Giles. I have to tell you that that's the worst mistake that you could possibly make. You're only alive because it's in my interest to keep you alive. But, you cause any trouble for me. You ever stop being worth the trouble. Then I cut bait."

Xander used his left hand to turn Andrew's head so that he could see or rather hear the crashing waves against the ship's edge. "You know what's going to happen then. You don't want that. I, on the other hand, don't care. You, maybe more than most, know who I am. Know what I am. And your death means absolutely nothing to me. Get me?"

Andrew tried to turn his head, but he couldn't. It was like trying to move against an iron bar. "I…I get you."

"Good." Xander pulled the watcher and tossed him toward the center of the ship's deck closer to the cable that was dangling from the helicopter's winch. "Glad you got the message. Time to go home."

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Cleveland…

"So it's approved?" Xander said, into his phone. He knew that the others were waiting on him, but he wanted to get the okay before he said anything. That was the reason for the little outburst a couple of days ago after all. It wouldn't do to have it get leaked if he wasn't allowed to talk. "Okay. Actually, I think they can handle it. Okay. I think they'll need to learn. You know, eventually. Okay. Bye."

Xander hung up and placed the cell phone back into his pocket. He looked at the others in the conference room. They were there for the debriefing. The usual suspects were there. The watchers, Giles, Dawn, and Andrew. Buffy was there, as was Faith. Pretty much the leadership that was there before.

He noted Robin's continued absence. Likely a result of Giles wanting to keep a closer eye on him, and to try to create more distance between him and the head field watcher. A matter of control. As the overall head watcher, Giles could do that to him. With Faith, not so much given her independent streak.

"Okay," Xander said, looking at them from his place at the end of the table. It was the hot seat of the T-shaped conference table. From the look of Andrew's jaw, and Giles and Buffy's rather distasteful looks, the young watcher had told them at least some of what happened. "Virus is neutralized. The ship's destroyed. The full crew's dead and gone to meet Davy Jones. And, not the one with the funny hair. Everyone's back alive. All in all a successful mission. I call that a win."

"Do you mind explaining how Andrew was hurt?" Giles asked, as Xander finished with his rather short summary. Obviously things had been accomplished quickly and efficiently. From Dawn and even Buffy's reports, it had gone as planned with a minimum of risk to everyone involved. Buffy hadn't been able to gather any important information on the people that Xander was working for, and her attempts to take pictures of the people involved in the operation had been hindered.

Evidently, something had erased the memory of the cell phone that she had tried to use to snap some pictures of the people at the temporary headquarters that Xander's people were using. The watcher heavily suspected the witch that Xander was using, but he couldn't be sure. With no direct action taken, he couldn't accuse Xander of anything. Even if he was particularly inclined to. At the moment, and with months to calm down and to try to see things from Xander's perspective, he did know that they were better off working together for the moment. As much as their personal relationship might have been strained. He may even have some of that loathing like of the boy back again. Didn't mean he had to trust the young man though.

Xander shrugged. He looked at the watcher, trying to gauge how much he knew. A quick glance at Dawn and Faith, and it was pretty evident that Andrew had been relatively tight lipped about it. "I didn't exactly see it. I figure he whacked himself on the side of the chopper jumping out. Not unexpected, given how eager he was to get in on the action. Real trooper you got there Giles. I'm sure he'll amount to something once you got him trained up right."

He made sure he kept his tone neutral. It would be too easy to slip into dripping sarcasm and he couldn't do that now.

Xander turned his head to look Andrew in the eyes. "A real trooper. Real enthusiastic and a good showing for you guys. Right, Andrew?"

"Uh, right." Andrew nodded, nervously. He looked at Giles for a moment before turning away, swallowing. He couldn't exactly tell them the real reason for the red bruise on his face, not without looking like a fool. Especially after Xander's praise of him.

"See, one big happy family." Xander smiled. He reached to his bag resting next to him on the table and opened it. From the large pocket, Xander pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it, placing it flat on the conference table.

He placed a finger on it, pointing down at the paper. "This here, is something we pulled out of the ship. Seems like someone onboard knew a bit more than he let on and was planning on working a buy with another party. Guy known thereabouts as the Frenchman. Any of you guys heard of him?"

Giles thought about the number of people he knew or heard about in his long career with the Watchers and in his checkered past. While there were a number of French men that were involve with things shady, none of them were known as the Frenchman. He briefly wondered how Xander had come to know about someone he hadn't.

Xander looked at them all in turn. In truth, he knew that only three of them had the remotest chance of knowing whom he was speaking of. Though the fact that they didn't, didn't actually mean all that much. The Frenchman, wasn't quite as impressive as having a moniker starting with "the" would imply. "Don't worry about it. He's a weapons dealer of sorts, though he sidelines in information, drugs, really anything that can turn a profit. Operates out of New Orleans."

"How do you know that?" Buffy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

Xander looked at her, and decided to go with the truth. Playing around, as amusing as it might be, would just piss her off and serve no purpose than to give him a happy. And, that wasn't worth it at this point. "I bought some blow off of him once. There was a thing for a guy. Long story."

Xander picked up the paper and held it up. "This has got some contact information on it for where Georges Boyer, that's his real name, is operating out of. He's not exactly a pen pal, but the place seems legit."

"So what are you telling us for?" Dawn questioned. "Why aren't you going to take care of it."

Xander looked at the young watcher, who was fast becoming a highly effective member of the Council. And, pretty damned insightful to boot. "Tell the truth, thought's crossed my mind. But, the way I see it, you all aren't going to be shutting your doors and getting normal lives anytime soon."

"I'll get you what else I got when I get the chance." He set the piece of paper down again, sliding it as far down the table as it would go. Dawn walked over to pick it up. It wasn't the original paper recovered, that had gone back with Scott and the others. The paper had been copied and Cindy had translated it, writing on the photocopy.

"Meaning?" Buffy glared at him again.

He understood the hostility. He really did. And, to be true to himself, he couldn't exactly blame her. Though, only in terms of how people would react to being forced to face their flaws. And, that's not even counting Buffy's rather stubborn nature.

"Meaning, you need to learn this eventually," Xander said, looking directly at one of his now oldest living friends. "As good as you've been doing so far, you included Buffy, you're nowhere near good enough to face everything. Not as you are right now. Not even with the improvements that have been made."

"Giles." Xander snapped his head at the watcher. "You were prepared to go with Buffy's plan if Faith hadn't asked for me in particular. Right?"

Giles nodded his head.

"What are you getting at?" Faith asked.

"It was the right move to call me," Xander said, nodding towards what he considered the head slayer. Even if Buffy was trying to retake the spot. Her actions here wouldn't help her move against Faith though. Not once word started to get around about it. "Andrew wasn't there for it, but let's just that my boys found some party favors. Stuff that was meant for us, but would have found you instead, had you been unprepared."

"What stuff?" Dawn asked.

Xander shrugged. "The usual mix of light arms. AK's, handguns. Body armor in some cases. And, Stingers. Infrared homing missile launchers. You went in there loud and hot, you'd all be the ones sucking sea water."

The Stingers had been real concerns. Surplus RPG-7's were what was the usual thing seen coming at high speeds. Still, they'd pulled the serial numbers to pass to the military to see if they could track the weapons to where they had been stolen from. Something that he now wondered why hadn't happened with the AT4 that he had appropriated from Sunnydale's stores.

"You'll need to start spending some of that Council money you've got hidden away somewhere. Weapons. Vehicles." Xander considered what he was telling them to do. By all rights they would have to become a private army in order to succeed in the world. His experience with some of the PMC's in Africa hadn't exactly made him enamored with the concept. Still, there was little other choice. "And you're going to have to start looking outside your little world view of people to bring on board. Whether I like him or not, civilian pilot's licenses aren't going to cut it."

Faith nodded grimly. It was a minor success, and she had to admit that there was some satisfaction in being proven right. But, that didn't dissuade form the heavy stakes that they were operating under. After all, it very well could have been her on that chopper. At the very least, it would have been one of her slayers.

Xander waited for it to sink in. He didn't feel any satisfaction at it though. In truth, it wasn't exactly hard to figure out the flaws in their plans. Hundreds to thousands of years of military doctrine and self-examination had led to pretty good strategy and tactics. It wasn't like he was thinking these things up on his own.

"You know, it's not…" Xander started, looking at them all. "It's not…a weakness to ask for help when you don't know, or can't do something. But, it is when you don't. And, when you don't learn from it."

"What do you want us to do?" Faith said. She had worked on her pride, something that her increasing amounts of self-reflection had identified as something that caused her problems in life, as well as in her slaying.

"The Frenchman," Xander told her. "I want you guys to take care of it. He's not exactly large, and I thought he might prove useful in the future, so he was left alone. I knew he was ambitious, but never to this scale. If he's looking to acquire these types of weapons, then he needs to be stopped. I got other things to do, so it falls to you. Destiny's calling. And it's calling collect."

"What things?" Dawn asked. "What do you have to do?"

"You'll know the next time you see me," Xander said, standing up. He slung his bag over his shoulder; the meeting was clearly over.

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Somewhere in New York…

"You read this yet?" Lampkin tossed the front page of the Times onto desk. It had been a couple of days since Xander had gotten back from Cleveland. Longer since he had done the operation in California. Not a lot of time, but things had certainly changed in the mean time. "S&P's up fifteen points. And, it's a good time to get into oil futures. But, I was particularly impressed by the story on the front page."

Xander picked the paper up and pulled it closer to him. He saw the rather bad artist's sketch that accompanied the story on the front page. The story above the fold. He skimmed through it quickly, keeping himself from grimacing. None of it was particularly surprising, and most of it was guesswork and pure supposition. Still, take the supernatural out of the equation, and it was pretty damned accurate. "Little sensational for my tastes. Especially for a reputable paper like the Times. What's your point?"

"Well, let's just say that some people really aren't happy with this particular turn of events," Lampkin said.

Xander set the paper back on the desk. "I thought we were all hands off of these journalists. Something change in the last couple of days? I miss the memo?"

"They weren't aware that he would just run what he had instead of waiting for something more solid." The assistant director put his hand on the newspaper. "So what are you going to do?"

Xander thought about it. "Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Just take care of it. Not right now though. That'd be way too suspicious," Lampkin stated. "We're pulling our guys off of this. Domestic spying isn't exactly what we do, and he's already shown us what he's got. If you get any more public, we'll deal with it, but for now, he'll just be allowed to run what he has. Which isn't much else. Right?"

Xander nodded. He wondered what the field director was telling him. On the one hand, he was told that he wouldn't be allowed to just disappear the reporter. On the other hand, he was now being told that there would not be any more surveillance. An interesting conundrum if there ever was one.

"He could be useful," Xander said at last. He'd have to come up with another bag of lies. Probably mixed with some of the tracks he had laid over the years. A reporter reporting what he wanted known about him could come in handy. With even demons and the forces of evil starting to get more technologically advanced, it could be useful to have his tale get more embellished in actual print. It also did away with one of the larger problems that his reputation was causing. By keeping it alive, but off of him specifically he could allow it to serve its purpose without actually exposing his identity or his actual place in events. "Spread some disinformation around to feed to the people we want it fed to. It's been done before."

"Right. We managed to pull an address off of the hard drive you managed to recover." Lampkin reached into his desk and pulled out a manila folder. He put it on the top and slid it over. "Where they got their weapons from. Pretty out of the way dealer. Your basics. Rifles. Light arms. Light explosives. Survivalist turned gun runner or some such. Though probably a little closer to things than most."

Xander picked up the folder and read it. He frowned. "Garza. Don't recognize the name."

"Yeah. One of the weapons suppliers that the Council's using in Ohio," Lampkin said. "One of them that didn't come from us. Looks like he went mostly freelance after the old Council went under."

"Yeah, well I guess Giles didn't think that he should be trusting us as a sole source supplier." Xander put the folder down. "It could be a coincidence. There aren't that many dealers out in the boonies. Especially ones in the know. Given the old Council's usage of freelancers there's bound to be a number of them still around."

"Yeah. But, we have to cover ourselves. There could be a mole," Lampkin said. "We need to learn what he knows."

"Quiet?" Xander asked. From the descriptions in the file, this Garza character was nothing if not heavily paranoid. And likely well armed given the amount of stock he was moving.

The field director shook his head. "If possible. We're checking with the local authorities to see if they have anything on this guy. Figliuzzi, the SAC in the Feds' Cleveland office, is going to need some time to get everything cleared, and the local police are probably going to need a couple of days. Authorizations for top secret agencies tend to take time if you're playing with others. You need to be ready by then."

Xander nodded again. "I'm going to need some time off after this one."

"Why?" Lampkin asked.

Xander shrugged. He'd received the latest on the forces he had requested. They were about as prepared as they were ever going to be. And, Richard had held up his end of things. "Other duties. You know how it is."

Lampkin narrowed his eyes as he read the non-expression on his agent's face. He knew that would be the most he'd get. The director had cleared Xander for pretty much anything that he wanted. Even as field director, he wasn't sure why, but he had a pretty good idea that Xander was working on something new. Something important if Xander got the head boss to authorize such things. "Alright. Make it as quick as you can though. This thing ain't getting any clearer. And, I don't like not knowing what's going on."

"You and me both," Xander replied, nodding in agreement.

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"This work?" Xander asked, taking a spare seat in Cindy's office. He had the report that the witch had written up in the last week since they had gotten back from Cleveland. She'd been working on it off and on, and had finally submitted something of a proposal to him and Dr. Wesker.

"As sure as I can be without having actually tested it out on an actual slayer." Cindy turned around to face her boss as he sat down against the far wall of her office. "Wesker thinks it's safe enough, and it should prevent the spell from taking hold. And, we've tried it on mice. It works so far."

"Mice?" Xander questioned.

The witch shrugged. "Magical mice."

"Right. You know, we have no way of actually knowing that it works unless it's cast on one of our slayers," Xander stated. "Ask for a volunteer. As long as we're sure it's not going to hurt anybody. If it's safe, at worst it does nothing."

"I'll ask around," Cindy said. "There's still logistical problems though. Even counting only our slayers, and Alistair, it's going to take a long time to inoculate them all."

"I figured that," Xander replied. "Do you have any ideas on how it's being done?"

Cindy shook her head. "Not really. It's a fairly lengthy process though. It can't be done on the fly, so it can't be used tactically."

Xander grimaced. It wasn't exactly good news, but wasn't completely bad either. "Well, it's still something I guess."

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Forest outside of Cleveland…

"Ye think he knows something?" Jack asked, as he set down his binoculars. He looked over at Xander, who was lying next to him. From up close it wasn't hard to see him. From far away, the camouflage suits they were wearing coupled with the face and hand paint made them all but invisible.

It had been pretty quick. At least it was quick for the federal government when not faced with the threat of imminent destruction. Xander hadn't been back to New York for more than a couple of weeks before he had had to leave again. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, but with his current attachments, it was something he found he was losing the stomach for. He could and still would do it, but he no longer did not care about doing it.

"Or maybe he's just really, really paranoid." Xander said. He took one last look with his own set of binoculars. There were a number of guards surrounding the rather large cabin. Well-armed guards. "He's not exactly unknown to the local authorities, even if they just think he's a survivalist nut job exercising his second amendment rights."

He knew that the rustic appearance of the building was just a cover. Inside was sectioned off between living quarters and a rather large warehouse for Garza's weapons stores. Surrounding that was a tall chain link fence topped with barbed wire. He knew that there were probably other security measures in place, though motion sensors or making the fence electrical probably wouldn't be some of them. They were in a forest after all. Way too many possibilities for false alarms.

He scanned the large trees nearest to the fence. He could see black and white paint marked on a number of them. They were obviously designs and not just random markings. From the setup, it seemed like they would form a complete perimeter around the complex. A magical security system of some sort he reckoned.

Xander set the binoculars down and reached for his bag. He reached inside and picked out a digital camera with a telephoto lens. He focused on the trees and took a couple pictures of it. He took some more shots of the guards and the weapons they were carrying.

He put the camera down and looked to his left. "You get the rest?"

"I thought we had army guys for this shit?" Jack grumbled softly.

Xander didn't bother to look at him. "If we needed them to do this, then we shouldn't be doing this at all. Now should we?"

"Bah, I guess that's right," Jack admitted. "Still think we should be doing something though. This skulking business is not what I do."

"Yeah. Well, it's better to do know what's on the other side of door before kicking it in." Xander whispered.

"Ye got that right." Jack nodded. "I'm done. What now?"

"That's it. We'll be back once this stuff gets analyzed," Xander said, starting to pack his supplies as silently as possible.

Jack did the same and then backed up slowly. He made his through the brush, not rising until he was well away from the sight of the cabin.

Xander didn't want to leave the job half-finished. But, it was their only lead, and they couldn't afford to blow it by jumping into things. He just hoped that he would be back in time to lead the team when the move was made.

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New York…

"So you're just going to leave?" Vi said, crossing her arms. She watched as Xander started backing a bag. He was pretty much tossing clothes in there, not so much as bothering to fold it more than haphazardly.

"Pretty much." Xander said, walking over to the closet. He pulled out a couple of belts from a hanger and looked at the buckles. He examined the type of metal that was used, putting the ones that had steel in them back in the closet. He tossed the rest onto the bed. "I mean, I told you that it was coming."

"Yeah, but I assumed that I'd be coming with you," Vi replied. "I mean, it's spring break. I have a couple of weeks off, it's perfect."

Xander stopped what he was doing and turned around to face her. He saw the look on her face. The determined one. The one that wouldn't budge, cause she thought she was right. Of course, the fact that she usually was didn't help matters. "I'll be going with a couple of hundred slayers. I'm not exactly going to be in danger."

"Two hundred slayers that aren't me," Vi grumbled.

He had to suppress his smile at that. She was certainly sure of herself. That was a big difference from when he had first met her. It was rather endearing actually.

"I know you want in on this. I know what's it's like being sidelined on a fight. It's not fun. I know." Xander sat down on the bed. "But, there's this thing. There's going to be a dance. And, not a wacky fun night club type dance. It's like a ball. With magic."

"A dance." That stopped the slayer up short. "With dancing?"

"Pretty much." Xander shrugged. "That's what they do at these things. You know, besides just showing off for the rest of high society."

"And, you'd need a date." Vi narrowed her eyes. "Why exactly are you not wanting to bring me along?"

"Because then they'd find out about you," Xander said, too quickly. He knew that he should have phrased it differently the moment it left his lips. Unfortunately his brain had been a couple of seconds too slow for that.

"What?" Vi nearly shouted. "So what, you're ashamed of me now?"

"That's so not what I meant, and you know it," Xander said.

He sighed and looked up at the ceiling. He took a moment to collect himself before turning back towards his girlfriend. "Look, I'm walking in with the equivalent of two companies of men…women. That's going to cause a ruckus, and from what Richard is saying, some people are starting to see that value of such resources. They're going to be looking for leverage. Leverage on their leader. That would be me."

"And you think that's me?" Vi said, calming down.

"Yeah, yeah I do," Xander agreed, softly.

"And, you're trying to protect me?" Vi probed.

Xander just looked at her. He didn't know exactly where the conversation was going, but he knew it was nowhere good. "I know you can take care of yourself, but this could be asking for problems you don't need to have."

"But, you do?" the slayer asked.

"In this case, yeah. Yeah I do." Xander said, looking down.

"Then, I'm coming with you." Vi said, resolutely.

Xander lifted his head to look at her with a puzzled expression on his face. "Uh, did you listen to the stuff I said earlier?"

"I did." Vi walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. "And, now it's my turn to support you. After all the things you've done for us. For me. That's what a relationship is, right? An equal partnership? Right?"

Vi poked him in the stomach a couple of times. "Right?"

Xander caught her hand in his. "Right."

Vi smiled triumphantly.

"There's just no way you're going to listen to me on this is there?" Xander asked.

"Nope." Vi continued to smile. "You're stuck with me."

"Yay?" Xander asked. He returned the smile for a moment. "You, uh…you know that I'm still against this right?"

"Yeah." Vi nodded.

"But, I guess I'm glad you're coming along anyway." Xander squeezed her hand before standing up to finish packing the rest of his stuff.

He wasn't exactly sure if he was just giving in because he would pretty much do whatever she asked. Xander knew that he could be just as stubborn as the red headed slayer, but that when it came down to it, he'd do anything to make her happy. Maybe it was his own past, where he saw where constant arguments could lead, but he knew that he did not want to end the day arguing with her. Not ever. Even if that did mean he ended up giving in most of the time.

Vi rose as well, needing to start packing her own.

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London…

"And, you believe this is viable?" the watcher asked. He placed the report he had been reading onto his desk.

"Yes, sir," Gary said, from his position in front of his boss' desk. If he was less nervous, he may have even noted the especially plush carpeting he was currently standing on. One of the perks of being in charge. "There are other targets, but none so promising, nor in an area that is less covered by Giles and his renegades. It's a weighing of risks really."

"Very well," Roger Wyndam-Pryce. The fact that they had to be so picky was an irksome circumstance. It meant that Giles and his bunch were increasingly spreading out and effecting real change in the world. Much to his annoyance.

"There's something else," Gary interrupted the older watcher's musings. He hadn't been under the head watcher for very long, but he knew that he was growing bolder and was more able to tell how the other watcher was feeling.

"What is it?" Roger said, keeping his irritation in check.

"The subject is currently located in Vatican City," the younger watcher said. "This isn't some street person or criminal. I don't think that Lyle would be willing to go through with this if you put him in charge. Frankly sir, I don't think he gets what we're doing here."

Roger sighed. "Quite right. I suppose we'll have to wait some time before we move. Let our own people get properly trained up before we start sending them out on their own."

"Very good, sir," Gary replied.

"That'll be all," Roger stated, dismissing his employee. The slayer in Europe would bear some watching, as would the area surrounding the proposed target. They had to make sure that it stayed clear of American interference.

At the very least, the outsiders they had brought on board would serve as effective trainers for their own operatives. The ones that understood their mission. Their vision. There could not be any of the mistakes of the past. The ones that had resulted in renegade slayers, independent slayers, and the near destruction of the Watchers' Council. No, he would not commit the same mistakes that Travers had.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter 12: Over There**

Chicago…

"That's a nice axe," Richard said, looking over at Xander. 

They were seated inside the large office building that Richard had apparently rented out for them. It wasn't furnished nor even finished; the air ducts and wiring visible in the unpaneled ceiling. The Faerie had rented it through official funds, precious metal coins converted to American currency. It would have been more than enough to purchase the real estate if he had simply melted the coins down and sold it as bulk weight. However, the exchange rate was held fixed by his government to stop its citizens from being tempted to do exactly that. Uncontrolled interdimensional currency speculation and commodities trading could destroy economies. Something that was generally frowned upon by nearly every government, even ones that weren't considered friendly and actually valued chaos. As it was, Richard had an open lease that would last long enough for what they needed it for.

Xander glanced at the axe he had next to him. He used to carry it regularly in battle. At least, he had in his travels in Africa once he had found it. That only lasted for half a year or so before he stopped. It had gotten heavier, physically as well as metaphorically. He hadn't had to use it since, or at least, he had convinced himself that he hadn't the need. Now, it would be a nice backup in a world that didn't allow his usual weaponry. Even in its current depowered state. Hopefully, at least.

"It gets the job done," Xander said. Besides, it had symbolic value, if only as something of a security blanket.

Richard looked down at the axe. It was large, far larger than he would have expected someone of Xander's stature and build to be able to wield effectively in battle. The weapon had a thick dark wooden haft, the bottom length of it wrapped in worn animal hide. It had a double-edged head, with the larger one wickedly serrated at the top and bottom. It looked like it was made of some gold copper alloy, or at least had that coloring to it. Looking closer, the immortal warrior noticed engraved birds flowing up the metal poll. They were beautifully done, crafted to appear as if they were still in flight. The thing was a work of art, though he could tell from the way it had been forged that its main purpose was as a weapon. A well-used and well-cared for weapon.

"Where do you get something like that," Richard asked, noticing that he could actually recognize the types of birds. Some looked like eagles and vultures, with a few that looked like woodpeckers.

Xander looked down at the weapon. The edge of it gleamed in the light of the fluorescent overheads. He shrugged. "Overseas. When I was rambling."

That wasn't the half of it. Xander suppressed a shudder as his mind wandered back to his fight with a rather large stone minotaur. It was a test from Ares; one he had barely passed.

"As I recall, the guy I got it from was rather reluctant to part with it," Xander continued. He stretched his legs out, the cold concrete floor didn't make sitting on it very comfortable. Some chairs would have been nice, but had been overlooked.

"What's it made of?" Richard could tell that there was something unique about the weapon. The ruby that capped the knob looked oddly dull. Despite its smooth surface the jewel seemed to nearly absorb light as opposed to reflecting it. 

Xander shrugged again. "Orichalcum."

The Faerie's eyes widened at the word. The metal had looked familiar, but only in terms of color. Tales of the mystical substance were littered throughout even their tales. The blades crafted by Atlantean weapons masters were legendary. They were no myth, he knew that, but they had been said to be lost or destroyed. Gone from the face of the Earth for all eternity. The last had been said to be lost to the seas over three millennia ago.

"Really?" Richard said, at last. Evidently, the tales were wrong. He only hoped that it was the only one in existence. The presence of more might destroy the balance of power. 

He knew that even when fully charged they were still limited. Modern arms could more than match them in destructive power, but they had other powers. Ways of granting their bearers status and ability to shape worlds as they saw fit.

"Yeah," Xander spoke, nodding. He glanced over at the Faerie, noticing his expression. It was the one he had been going for.

Richard considered why the human had brought the weapon along. "Is it functional?"

Xander shook his head. "Not so much, no. Not anymore at any rate. But, it looks nice, don't it?"

The Faerie took his word for it. But, the mere presence of such a weapon spoke volumes about the young human. Despite its less than impressive current power, it would still be seen as a status symbol. While the decadent nobles that inhabited the capital city were into less martial pieces of status, the weapon would be enough to attract attention. And warning most likely.

There were still many old enough to remember when such things had been used, even if such memories had faded with time. The forced reminder may very well wake them up to what was going on. He just wasn't sure that this method was what he would have wanted.

Xander heard a beep and looked over at the monitor that was resting on the floor next to him. The security and monitoring system had been set up by Richard in lieu of amenities that might have been desired. The Faerie had built up a permanent portal between dimensions. A stabilized faerie ring of sorts. Built of stone, crystal, and copper the portal drew upon natural magical stores created from an intersection of ley lines and did not require a caster to power it. With protections interwoven, the large magic circles would transport them and their party to Sidhe and back. Them and only them. 

It had taken some time to make. Time which wasn't spared to make the office into an office. No carpeting, tables, chairs, or cubicles. Which made the main office area large enough to hold all two hundred or so slayers that were making the jump with them.

The sound marked the arrival of Vi and the rest of the slayers along with some support personnel. People that had turned out to be required to lead such a large force. People he trusted and that had been vetted by Richard.

Xander looked up from the monitor. It all felt so real all of a sudden. He stood up and looked at the Faerie warrior. "Time to get started."

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"Alright, a few things before we go," Xander said, looking out over the crowd. The mixed companies of slayers were there, with a few requisite officer types. It struck him, rather depressingly, how young they looked. The truth was that many were actually close to his age, a few even a few years older. That just depressed him more. "This is a volunteer gig, as all of you know. You have till right now to walk away."

He looked at them all. They looked at him back. To their credit none of them left. The look on their faces was one of trust and respect. Xander didn't know if he had actually earned either.

"Okay." Xander nodded. "You'll be paid on site, in local currency. That can be exchanged once you get back. Or you can buy goods there, any cross-dimensional goods transfer will have to be declared and searched for contraband. You'll learn more about that later. Anyway, this is a three month gig. Three months with a possible extension depending on how things are at that time. It's hard time, battlefield conditions. You've trained for this, you've all trained extra for this, so I expect you to perform well. You're ready."

"You're ready," Xander said under his breath, more to himself than for anybody else. 

He paused, looking at them again, making sure that they all understood what they were getting into. "I want you to know, this will be considered as experience, as part of your jacket, if any of you decide to leave the Council. You guys go private sector, or come in with me, this'll count for you. You'll all be taken care of, I promise you on that. Okay, that's it for the speech. Time to go."

Xander looked towards the Faerie who was standing next to him and slightly to the rear. "Let's light it up."

Richard nodded and walked toward a large stone console.

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City of Perpetual Light, Sidhe…

Xander looked in the elegantly decorated room in front of him. He was in what was probably called the sitting or waiting room or something. Despite the fact that Richard was most likely not the richest Faerie in the realm, being a soldier and all, his place of residence was still extremely extravagant to his eyes. Maybe it was cultural, but that much intricate design and marble flooring had no place outside of a palace in his eye. 

He was pretty much afraid of sitting down on the extremely white furniture.

"Something to drink," Lily came up softly beside him. She smiled delicately at the overwhelmed expression on the young human's expression. It had been his first time in the realm, and the expression was not surprising. He had kept it upon entering their home, and even after the short time he had spent there, still had it on his face. She took it as a compliment; she was proud of the home that she kept.

"Uh, thanks." Xander turned and accepted the crystal goblet from Richard's wife. It was some type of juice he guessed. Light in body and light in color. A pale blue that nearly glowed in the crystal lights from above. He took a sip. It tasted sweet, like a mix of pear and some other fruit. Nothing he could recognize, that was for sure. Just another demonstration of how far from home he was. And if this was what he was feeling, he couldn't imagine what the others would be feeling in a couple of month's time.

He knew that the property was likely a result of Lily's status in society. A noble in her own right, she had standing and a fair bit of what passed for money. He knew that Richard had married for love, and did it quite well it would seem. The place that he had been given would likely not be so spectacular. Of course, given his beginnings, even owning property was a step up from what he could have expected to do had he never met Buffy.

"He's going out there isn't he?" The Faerie asked. She looked up at Xander slightly, trying to gauge his response. She knew that Richard was constantly on the move. One of the best of those sent out on various missions to protect their world. And though she wasn't a soldier herself, centuries of being a soldier's wife gave her keen insight on the potential dangers faced at any posting.

"I reckon that they might order him out there," Xander replied, as ambiguously as he could. There were no hard and fast rules, and the presence of what could be loosely referred to as the enemy was no secret. Even if there were those that chose to ignore it. "There are other places I suppose. But, there is just as good as anywhere else. Just as bad too."

"Is he going to be okay," she asked, concerned. She touched Xander by the arm lightly, unable to determine exactly what was going on in the young human's mind. She hadn't known enough to be able to read their faces. And Xander was schooled more than most to hide his emotions.

He turned to face her directly. "I wouldn't be sending my own people out there with him if I didn't think that. They all know what they're getting into out there."

Xander heard a noise at the entrance to the room and turned around. Vi entered the large room along with Richard. They had just gotten back from a meeting with some of the higher-ups in the military. The presence of slayers had been anticipated and was not such a surprise for the citizens to see them on the streets. He, on the other hand, would have been different. He couldn't go along with them, as much as it rankled. Those with formal standing knew about him, or at least his role, but it would be easier and smarter to limit access until formal relationships could be established in public. As an outsider, his presence in an established governmental position would surely ruffle a few feathers.

"Hey, how was it?" Xander said, as Vi walked up to him. She embraced him quickly and smiled at their host. "This is Lily. Richard's wife, you could say."

"Good, good. We got our badges and everything," Vi answered, pointing to a small metal pin that was attached to her shirt. It was like his own, though with a different color stone. She was also wearing what passed for local clothing. It didn't look too different from what was worn on Earth, just with different textured fabrics. Some type of peasant blouse looking thing, though less ruffled. And a long skirt, something that the slayer didn't wear all that much back home. While this dimension may have gone in on the side of magic over technology, comfortable clothes tended to be rather universal when it came to bipedal humanoids.

The slayer looked over at the Faerie woman. "How are you, Lily?"

"Very well, child," the Lady responded. When one was as old as she, most humans tended to be viewed as children. Though, given that she looked like a twenty three year old model, with vibrant blonde hair without a touch of gray, she certainly didn't look her age. "Let me have a look at you."

Lily looked the young slayer up and down. Examining her in ways, that weren't readily intelligible for humans. "So you are our young Xander's consort. Pretty little thing aren't you."

Vi shifted nervously as Lily sized her up. She blushed at the compliment, though she knew that objectively she couldn't compare to the unearthly beauty of the woman in front of her. Not that it mattered, at least when it came to the only man she cared to look at her.

"Well, I think that you need a dress if we're going to a ball," Lily said, once she was satisfied. She may not have known Xander for very long, but she did feel some connection to him. He was one of the few that her husband trusted after all. And, he reminded her of one of her own children. A mother's instinct perhaps, or something just as strong. "Come along."

The Faerie dragged the much younger woman away in a surprisingly elegant fashion, the slayer looking behind as she was forced to move.

Xander just chuckled in silence as the women left. He looked over Richard who was impassive, used to his wife's antics when faced with a new plaything. "So what do you have to around here? Ping pong?"

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New York…

Abigail sat down gingerly into the chair located in the center of the chalk circle. There were all sorts of attachments bolted onto what looked to be some type of dentist's chair. Whatever it was, it didn't look like it had been professionally done. The wires and other metal attachments culminated into a copper headpiece that had a grid etched into its surface. The lines had been filled with silver or some such substance. Other engravings marked the edges of the circular headpiece. It all seemed cobbled together. And rather unsafe.

"It's perfectly safe," Cindy said, hoping she sounded confident regarding the setup. It was made out of a dentist's chair that she had gotten from a scrap yard not too far out of town. It was really just a holder for the equipment that she had designed and had had specially manufactured. Theoretically, the metal headpiece held the magical imprinting that she needed to set up the protection spell on a slayer's mind. A lot easier than having to weave it freehand. The mechanical imprinting had been set within a miniscule margin of error to ensure that it was a safe as possible. Mechanically imprinted, it would also be able to be mass produced if things went well. She simply needed to control the flow of magic going into the spell to make sure that it didn't overload the central nervous system of the subject.

Her other tests on increasingly larger animals more closely related to humans had gone well. It had been time to move onto human trials. The witch had been somewhat surprised that Xander wasn't there to oversee things, but she knew that he had other things to do. Besides, he trusted her enough to do things by herself. As he did with all of his people. Well, maybe not Jack.

"Safe," the slayer repeated. She exhaled slowly and calmed herself. "I really do hope you know what you're doing."

"What?" Cindy pouted. "You don't trust me anymore?"

Abigail just smiled back. "Let's get started."

The witch returned the favor and nodded.

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London…

"I don't like this," Roger said, leaning back in his chair. He looked around at the other men in the sitting room of the flat that they all shared.

Chad put the equipment that he had been working with back into its plastic box. The smashed listening devices he dropped onto the table. He took a seat on the small couch, the only other place to sit in the room.

Lyle regarded the men in silence. He was the one that brought them into this. He had had his own uncertain feelings regarding the situation from the beginning, but had suppressed them once he had learned the stakes. Now, he wasn't so sure he should have done that. As much as he didn't trust the men he now worked for, he had to admit that what they were doing, or attempting to do, was necessary.

Chad shook his head. He picked up the newspaper that had been on the coffee table. "Look at this. Look at this, a mercenary. The things they're saying about him? And that Wyndham-Pryce prat, he didn't give us anything on this. Dropped us down that easy as you can with no intel, less than no backup, and no hope. We were fucked, and he got his own people killed."

Roger nodded in agreement. He didn't speak all that much, preferring to do his business supporting the team with a minimum of conflict. But, the whole situation stunk. Even before Cairo. The dead men, coupled with who had caused it just opened the whole thing up again. "This isn't us, man. This isn't us."

Lyle had read the same newspaper story that the rest of them had. Out of some American newspaper in New York, it had had a drawing that looked exactly like what Chad had made out about the man that had attacked them in Egypt. One of them at least. Some hardass mercenary type. Something that they hadn't expected. Bodyguard maybe. But, given Fahim's background, a bodyguard that shouldn't have been that good. Or have that many support people.

Chad sniffed and ran a hand over his mouth, as he set the paper down. "You know, we don't even know why we were in Egypt anymore. We don't these guys. We don't know who we ran up against. For all we know, that guy was sent to extract Fahim for a halfway reasonable purpose. Hell, we're just one step away from being a merc ourselves. We even sure we're on opposite sides with this One-Eyed Jack bloke? Fuck, he didn't know us. We go in there with guns, hell that arse, Al was shooting up civvies. For all he knew, we were the bad guys. At this point, I don't even know which way is up. And you expect some random guy to be able to get what the heck is going on?"

"You're right. The both of you. You're right." Lyle looked at his men. He sighed and shook his head. "I shouldn't have gotten the two of you involved. But, what they're saying. The things they're dealing with…now that we know, can we really walk away? You want to trust _them_ to do this thing?"

"Bugger," Roger grunted out. "They don't trust us. We can't trust them."

"No doubt." Chad nodded, glancing towards the smashed bugs. He had suspected their presence when they had been moved into the apartment. They'd been given the place under the premise that it would allow them quick access to the headquarters and allow them to be all in the same place for quick deployment. But, given the way that the Council was operating, he had looked for and bought some gear and done a sweep. The results, as expected as they were, didn't impress him. "So what do we do now boss? This is not what we signed on for."

"There's stuff they're not telling us," Lyle said, after a moment's thought. "They're planning something, and they're going to use their own guys. They're using us to train up their boys, so that they can get them good enough. Well, what they think is good enough. Roger's right. We can't trust them. We can't trust them to protect the world right either. And I sure as hell don't trust them to do much of anything else. So, I'm staying in. I can't just walk away from this knowing…knowing that they're just going to step in it again. Bollocks it up again. I can't ask you do the same though. If I have to, I'll do it alone."

Chad clenched his jaw. A good part, maybe close to half of him, wanted to go back home to Ireland. Back to his family and a shite job. But, a well paying job where he knew what was going on. Still, he had never been one to back down from a fight. And what they were fighting for. The people above them, and hell, next to them may not be worth it, but there were still those that were. 

It was a hell of a thing when the people charged with protecting the safety of the world were a bunch of bureaucrats and suits.

He looked at Roger. Chad knew that Roger was nearly a kid next to the two of them. At least, he had been when they had started. Roger had never talked much about his past. He knew that there was something bad there. Bad enough that the younger man didn't have anything else but this thing. Roger probably would have nearly turned merc himself if Lyle hadn't called him up once his tour was done. He didn't have anything to go back to. Chad caught his fellow soldier's eyes. They nodded in agreement, not needing to speak. 

Chad leaned back in the sofa. He looked towards their boss. "We're in."

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Cleveland…

"Fortunately for you, I happen to disagree with your opinion on the matter," Giles said. He closed the book that he had been reading and looked to one of the young women that was sitting at his desk. "Like it or not, from what even Andrew's stated, without Xander that operation would never have been a success. Your plan…your plan simply wasn't good enough as is. It needed more, which is what Xander provided."

Buffy didn't seem happy when the watcher sided with _him._ She was sure that she could have made her plan work if she had been there. She'd improvised in the past and that had pretty much always turned out well.

Giles sighed and removed his glasses, taking some time to close them and lay them gently on the desk. "As much as it pains me to have to be the one to say this, but you need to grow up."

"Giles," Buffy sputtered out, rather shocked by the way he was now turning on her.

"Buffy, right now…look at me," Giles nearly snapped. He waited until she looked at him, though her attitude was rather petulant. He sighed aloud. The times when she actually listened to him with an open mind were nearly a distant memory. "Right now, the only one that's not taking this situation seriously, professionally, is you. And as much of a pain in the ass, as you would say, as he may be, he's still quite effective. You've done good work for us, but there are still some things you can't do. Now, there are more important things to discuss."

Buffy sulked as she crossed her arms over her chest. "This isn't over."

"I expect not," Giles replied, as he picked up his glasses and placed them back onto his face. "Faith."

"I have the list of all the slayers that are gone." Faith said, sliding a file on the top of the desk. "Two hundred, and some other people. Support personnel, mainly ones that he supplied us with. I've made sure that the other slayers have spread out the work amongst themselves to make up for it. Things are pretty slow though, so there isn't much of an effect for the moment."

Giles picked up the list and looked at it. He knew a few, recognized the names of a few more. Though he knew that many of the leaders in the group had ties to Xander or some of the slayers that he was especially close to. 

"I suppose you know where they are?" Buffy asked, looking at her fellow slayer. Not that there was much camaraderie there.

Faith turned and glanced at Buffy. "No, as a matter of fact I don't know. However, he did tell me about it before he did it. That's how I was able to organize the rotations. Maybe if you had been paying attention, you would have known about it too. 

The slayer turned back towards the watcher, ignoring Buffy's hostile expression. "I trust that he asked them to go with him for a reason."

"Something that he didn't clear with me, however." Giles set the list back down on his desk. He narrowed his eyes slightly. The watcher wasn't "He did say that it could come to this. That he would use the Council's slayers as his own personal-"

"Candy store?" Faith filled in. She shifted in her seat. "I don't much like it either. But, sooner or later we're all going to have to realize that he's going to act as he sees fit, and that he has enough pull to force the issue if we don't let him do it."

She couldn't tell them the whole truth. Not who Xander really worked for. While part of her wanted to fill Giles in on it, she honestly didn't know how the watcher would react. She had her own people to protect, and as much as she wanted to talk, her own sense of loyalty and responsibility overrode that. 

"We need to find out everything we can about who he is really working for," Giles said, after a moment. "He knows too much and can do too much for money to supply. There is more going on than he's let us know and we need to know about it. For our own safety. That should be our first priority."

Giles paused for a moment, wondering if he should add more. He looked both of the slayers in the eyes. "I don't trust him. There's too much that he hasn't told us for me to trust him. We can use him, but we can't trust him. We need to find out what he's planning."

Buffy nodded in agreement. She was unhappy with the way things had gone in Los Angeles and how she hadn't been able to find anything out. "I have some of my own slayers that I can get to help."

Faith shifted in her seat again, uncomfortably this time. Her uneasiness was partly because of her secrets, and partly because of the fact that Buffy actually had some of her own slayers. As odd as it was, Buffy could be quite persuasive when it came down to it. Especially in small groups.

That had been one of her main tasks when she had come back. She had started practicing with and training with a number of the younger slayers that had been newly brought in from the world. It helped her build up her own skills from the ground up as well as get familiar with the procedures that the Council employed now that there were so many.

The older and more experienced slayers tended to be needed elsewhere. Usually in the field, or in training of their own. That left a lot of fresh young minds to be molded. And turned. Buffy had used her time well.

Buffy was impressive, once the stories were told. Especially when told from her perspective and how much she could be said to have done. The Master. The Mayor. Glory. And those were just some of the big ones. She could certainly talk about herself, the brunette slayer had to give Buffy that much. And with young girls that had not the experience to understand the world they lived in, it had had a great impact. She only wished that she had had the time to talk to more of them newcomers. Something she was trying to fix now, but had had little effect so far.

That was one of the reasons why things had gone so badly back in Sunnydale. A little less charisma, and Buffy wouldn't have led things so badly. Not that she had done much better, but still. People listened and were willing to follow the blonde slayer. Even when it was straight off a cliff.

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City of Perpetual Light…

Xander feinted with his left foot as he prepared himself for a diagonal upward slash with his short sword. It was as fast as he could without leaving himself open. An explosive blow that was soon caught.

Richard let the strike hit hard on his left bracer. He felt the blow reverberate through the thick leather and metal armor and into his muscle and bone. Xander wasn't doing things by halves. He sent his own response in a couple of quick slashes with his own short sword. The weapon was made of a local metal and therefore light enough to be swung like that in a reverse grip without leaving an opening by having to follow through too much. The edges had been blunted, making them practice blades. Would still hurt if struck against an unarmored body though. Or even against the leather getups that both men wore.

The human slid backwards to avoid the strikes, making sure that he didn't lose his footing. He moved to his right, slashing back and forth to keep his opponent back. He wasn't particularly used to the weapons that they were using. A large forearm bracer went on the off-hand, with a short blade much like a machete was used as the main weapon. It was a nearly antiquated dueler's setup, not meant for actual combat. But, it was also still used to help train young soldiers in discipline and footwork. 

"So what do you think so far?" Richard asked as he took a step back. He sidestepped, probing a few times with his sword to look for a possible entrance.

"I think it's like Paris to the tenth power," Xander said, breathing hard. The sweat was streaming down his face. Some of it was caught by the headband in the helmet that he wore, but the helmet caused heat issues of its own that just caused him to sweat more. "Looks pretty. But, the locals leave something to be desired. Present and extended company excepted of course."

When they had arrived he had been able to travel outside a bit to get from the portal to the main city center. They had made quite a sight. Mostly him though. And not just because of his missing eye. While there were a number of sentient species that inhabited the realm, humans were something of a rarity. At least full on pureblood humans. Before they had gone isolationist, a number of species had crossed over and made Sidhe home, not to mention the locals. Over time there were enough of a population of many of them that the dimension could support their continued existence. That wasn't to say that there was no traffic in and out, however. Just that it had trickled to nearly nothing. Trade lines had dried up, as had tourism and most of the other reasons for interdimensional travel. 

However, for all of the pixies, Faeries, sylphs, and other types that inhabited the central city, they all had one thing in common. Their magical nature. The nature of a slayer approximated something that the Fair Folk would consider normal. He, on the other hand, had none of that. To the Faeries and others, he was considered rather less than fully sentient. Less aware of the world around him. Less than fully a part of their world, and therefore he stuck out as a white moth did against dark trees. It made him something of a spectacle. Not a good one either.

Richard had to grin at that, though Xander wouldn't be able to see it through the slits in his face mask. He braced himself for another strike on his bracer and followed up with a return blow upon Xander's sword that nearly broke through the young human's defense. "It's not that bad. It's like most cities, even on your world. The civilized have a low view of the simple country folk. Like yourself."

"Ha ha," Xander said, his arm starting to ache. He had barely been able to get his weapon up in time to deflect Richard's strike. As it was, he had had to catch the majority of it against the edge. With the extremely strong metal of the weapon it didn't damage it, but the force had to go somewhere. His body was the easiest conduit. "I'm real impressed by the cee-ment pond you have out back."

He moved forward with his sword, purposefully overextending. 

"Yes, well it's just the city. It's not everyone here." Richard struck down on Xander's sword with his own.

Xander allowed the hit, and moved in, smacking his hardened bracer against Richard's shoulder. 

Richard spun with the blow bringing his sword up in a defensive stance so that Xander couldn't continue his attack. "You're getting good."

"Yeah, well having to practice against slayers makes you get good real quick," Xander responded. He adjusted to keep Richard in his line of sight. The helmet wasn't conducive to a clear vision, and lacking an eye was helping things. "If you don't want to get your ass kicked a lot."

Richard nodded. He moved in, capturing Xander's sword with his own, and sending a quick blow with his left hand.

Xander was caught off-guard, and the fist caught him straight in the face mask. If he hadn't had it on, it probably would have broken his nose. As it was, he lost hold of his blade and fell on his back. 

He lay there for a moment, looking up in a daze. "Ow."

Xander reached up and took off his helmet, regaining his feet as he did so. 

"You okay?" Richard said, using his shield hand to take off his own helmet. He had a rather large grin on his face. 

"Oh yeah, nothing I haven't had done to me a bunch of times." Xander grimaced, shaking off the after-effects of the blow. "That's why I tend to shoot people instead of stabbing them with pointy things. Much easier on my pride. And my backside."

"Pretty good," the Faerie said, still smiling. "For a human."

Xander shook his head, grinning back. "Pretty good. For an old man."

Richard walked over to the bench that lined one wall of the training room. The room was sparsely decorated compared to the other rooms in the house. The only touch of flourish was the ceiling. A hand painted fresco depicting a hunt in a thick forest. The prey was some type of deer, though it had what looked like a unicorn's horn in the center of its forehead, in the middle of its two antlers. It was inspired by similar hunts down on his world.

He dropped the helmet on the bench and picked up a cloth, cleaning his sword. Xander followed him after picking up his own sword and did the same.

"So what's out there?" Xander asked after he had finished cleaning the sword and replacing it on the rack that it belonged on. He inclined his head to look at the ceiling. "Out there? In the country."

Richard followed his eye, looking at the scene. It had been painted by one of his sons, a rather prominent painter for a number of years now. "It's pretty quiet now. Pretty safe, for travelers, traders, and the like. But, there are still some Wild Folke out there. The Wild Fae. Gnomes, dwarves, selkies. A couple of giants and mountain trolls too, from what I hear. We have patrols and it's been quite a long time since they've wanted more than peace. Mainly it's just those that don't want city life. Or those that feel closer to nature out there in the forests and plains and mountains. Hippies."

"Must be something to see," Xander replied, still looking up at the ceiling. He had never been one for travel as a kid. His parents hadn't exactly been willing. For the first eighteen years of his life he had never traveled outside of a couple of hours away from Sunnydale. He'd tried once, but it hadn't exactly turned out the way he had wanted. After Sunnydale though, he had gone all over the world. Even to a couple of dimensions for extremely short stays, though none as beautiful as the one he was currently in. The travel had had something of an effect. There were still parts of Earth that he wanted to see. The journeys that he had taken had given him an idea of the breadth of human existence, and what was there to be saved. And seeing it through Vi's eyes, the eyes of a young woman that had been sheltered for much of her life, who was seeing the world for the first time, made it all the more brilliant. He whispered, "something to see."

"Aye. That it is," Richard agreed aloud. He continued to look up at the ceiling. It had been quite a while since he had simply looked at it. Marveling at its beauty, not just in the way it had been painted, but in what it portrayed as well. "That it is."

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Author's Note: I don't think that turned out exactly how I wanted since it's mainly all exposition or character stuff. It should pick up later though.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Chapter 13: Stranger in a Strange Land**

City of Perpetual Light…

"Thirty? Try twenty." Xander shook his head again. He looked the hulking figure in his slit pupiled eyes. All three of them, though he kept from staring too intently at the one in the center of the gray "man" in front of him. Especially since it seemed to be a lazy eye. He knew he was probably failing. Hopefully the odd looking sentient in front of him wasn't noticing.

The shopkeeper just grunted at the lowball figure that had just been proffered. Bargaining was one thing, theft was quite another. He eyed the small Faerie looking creature in front of him, trying not to stare at his central eye. Not a Faerie though, he could smell that much even through the disparate scents of the bustling Faerie market around them.

"Twenty eight," the Harkvoian merchant snarled through what passed for a mouth. He tossed in an easy grin to encourage the potential customer, though the message was lost through the sharp, yellow and heavily misshapen teeth that filled its large nearly canine muzzle. "No less, human."

Xander narrowed an eye at the last remark. He was in disguise after all, though most magical folk in the realm would be able to tell he wasn't local by sight, or sound, or any of a number of senses. Harkvoians were rather observant, what with the spare eye after all. There was irony in the physiology somewhere he was sure. Still, it wasn't polite to point it out. Even in less than polite company. "Twenty five, and I expect it done in less than five turns."

The merchant snorted once and nodded, accepting the deal. He eyed the badge on the robed figure in front of him, noticing the similar one on the other robed figure. That one was a Faerie, he could smell that much. Both of them were members of the military, and while it was permitted to bargain and strive for the best deal, there were limits to what he could ask for. Or con out of them. Even if the customer was a human.

It wouldn't do to have a young soldier lose all of his memories by striking a particularly bad deal at market after all. The training was a government resource, and they wouldn't stand for it to be pointlessly lost because the soldier was dumb.

Xander reached into his robes and into a bag that he had attached to his belt. He pulled out the diamond that he had placed there after displaying it for the merchant briefly and put it on the wooden surface of the jewel shaper's stall. It wasn't exactly the most reputable looking place, but compared to the other creatures hawking crafts and services, it would do. Besides, it had come recommended by Richard's wife and that was good enough for him.

"I'll come back for this later." Xander reached back to his belt and pulled out another pouch and extracted twenty-five pieces of what passed for the local governmental currency. It looked like a mix of gold and silver, but likely wasn't. The metals were too hard for that. He had exact change since most merchants in the market place didn't usually trade in hard currency. Not that many of the market folk liked dealing with government employees, and most experienced market goers tried to avoid using the currency when they didn't have to. Besides, with Sidhe being mostly closed off to mass cross traffic, it was more a better deal to trade in kind rather than have to go through governmental money exchanges.

He laid the coins on to the countertop and turned, starting to walk away.

"Pleasure doing business with you," the merchant called out at the human's back. He reached onto the worn wooden surface of his stall's table and swept up the coins and the diamond.

He examined the stone a bit more closely, not taking any care to shield it from people that might be watching. Violence was strictly forbidden at the market, with heavy penalties laid out for all participants. Magical spells prevented anonymous violence and it would be quickly determined who was at fault. As it was, he had more to worry about from his customer than anybody else there presently given the human's military status.

The gemstone was of exceptional quality and clarity. The stonecutter had not seen something of such exquisite beauty even in its raw form in quite some time. The type of cut that had been requested would be difficult. And the number of facets would take quite a deal of time to properly shape. He'd have to get started right away if he was going to meet the deadline.

With one last look at the departing customers, nearly lost in the swirling crowd of multi-species market goers, the Harkvoian shook his large head and turned around, setting about closing the shop early to get to work on his special job.

Xander shook his head after departing the small stall and walking a short while. He blinked hard trying to clear his head of what he had just seen. "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that."

Richard turned and looked back down the narrow path at the stall they had just left. The merchant hadn't exactly been friendly with Xander, but he hadn't been nearly has difficult or cunning as he could have been. The smell wasn't even as bad as some of the Harkvoians. All in all, it was actually something of a bargain. "Seemed perfectly normal to me."

The human stopped, stepping to the side to let something that walked on what looked like a mass of flippers pass by them. Richard stepped closer to his friend, taking refuge in a small gap between neighboring stalls. Xander watched as the flippered thing walked out of sight. "That's not exactly what I meant, but are you kidding me?"

Xander waved a hand towards the opening, encompassing what could be seen of the market place from the area that they were in. There were the usual shoppers, though there were many species milling about next to each other. Some were Faerie, others were from the lesser prevalent sapient species native to the dimension. There were others as well, some he knew were considered demons in his home dimension.

That didn't even consider what they wore, or even what they bought. Gemstones. Eyeballs that moved on their own. Miniature animals, including some that were obviously from Earth. Magical gadgetry and some simple mechanical types that ran on steam. Those were some of the more mundane wares that were on sale.

He watched as a silver haired Faerie woman completed her purchase of a small gray storm cloud. She paid for it with what looked like a glass jar filled with silvery blood. His mind went to that Harry Potter movie that he had seen a few years back. Still looking at the woman, he noticed that the Faerie attached a gold thread to the cloud and led it away, as if it was a child's balloon.

Xander suddenly laughed out loud, drawing no attention from the menagerie that was the crowd.

Richard looked at him, putting it down to humanity's expression for the absurd. Though he knew that much of it was likely Xander's unique character. "Done yet?"

"I take it that you don't appreciate the absurdity of this situation?" Xander smirked, looking towards his Faerie companion. "I mean, I get the feeling that they don't take Visa here. It's everywhere you want to be, indeed."

"You didn't think it'd all be like Earth did you?" Richard asked, innocently. "How very humanocentric of you."

Xander just looked at the Faerie. "Please. It's one thing to expect things to be like back home, it's another when I'm bargaining with a gargoyle looking guy. Speaking of which, I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that mouth thing. Lips should look like they're pronouncing the words that they're…uh…pronouncing."

"Xander, did you honestly believe that everyone here would speak English?" Richard asked, chuckling a bit. The Faerie shook his head, and then dipped into his native tongue. "Just be glad that you've got a translation spell woven into that stone. Beats actually having to learn a language, doesn't it?"

Xander shook his head, keeping his eye off of the Faerie's lips not matching up to what he was saying. He'd gotten too used to Richard speaking English. In fact, it occurred to him that he would have to start calling Richard by his real name now that they were in his dimension. "Well Varook, when you put it that way…"

"Yes, well we can be going now, if you're done playing the Ugly American in my home dimension." Richard looked around, noting that some of the passersbys did turn their attention to them now, if only briefly. A few paid particular attention to the weapon that was strapped to the human's hip. The robe that he was wearing didn't hide its full length, though in truth, the physical appearance of the weapon was probably not all that was being detected.

It was magic, the Faerie had known that nearly on sight, or second sight as the case may be. However, once in the Faerie realm it had taken up an aura of sorts, revealing something of its true nature. A magical weapon, definitely. Though one of unknown type and power. Probably linked to one of the old Gods that had dwelled on Earth. More than likely it had been carried by a Champion or Hero in days past when they would fight the monsters and demons that had roamed the land in freedom. But, like many of those that sought to represent one of those Powers, it had likely proven less than useful in the end. At least Xander didn't appear to be relying upon it.

In his long and varied experience, such things had a way of failing when they were needed most. It had not helped Artorius in the end, and even his kingdom had fallen, his dream of peace shattered.

"Sure," Xander said, looking into the crowd, waiting for a clear space to move into. It didn't take long, though the market was still in full swing as far as he could tell. "It's time to get back anyway. Have to wash up and get dressed."

Richard could tell, with the human's displayed annoyance that Xander didn't relish the thought. Partly because of the fact that Xander would now have to go to what he had called a "Disney musical on acid." The rest of it was due to what he had to wear. Well, what they had to wear, though he had long since grown used to the dress.

He followed after Xander as the human stepped out into the crowd and started walking towards the city center. "It's not so bad, at least as members of the military we just have to wear dress uniforms. Could be worse, it could involve tights."

"Thank the gods for small favors then." Xander smiled, looking over towards the Faerie next to him. He kept walking though, not noticing as he bumped into the person in front of him.

xxx

New Orleans…

"You going to tell me what you know?" Faith said, slamming the demon's face into the bar again. "Or am I going to have hurt you again."

The Chorago demon wheezed, feeling the cracked rib grate as he attempted to breathe. With thicker than human ribs, he could take a pounding, especially given his four hundred pound weight. But, it was no match against the slayer cracking him in the side with a bar stool. His face now didn't feel very good either. "I don't know nothin', slayer."

Faith smirked, then looked back over her shoulder at one of the other slayers in the bar. "What do you think Rona? You think he knows anything?"

Rona sniffed the air a few times. "I think he's too scared to lie. You can smell the fear coming off of him. He stinks."

"Maybe you're right." Faith slammed the demon's head hard into the side of the bar. She let the pale white demon groan on his way to unconsciousness as she let go and watched as he fell to the floor.

The brunette slayer turned around to face the others in the bar. It was a typical dive bar, not too different from any of a number of drinking establishments that she had been in back in Boston. Of course, it was still up for grabs as to which of them had the more unsavory clientele.

Simone had a cut down shotgun leveled at a few demons that were fidgeting near the back of the bar. The pink haired slayer was calm though; the semi automatic shotgun had a full load of buckshot and would cut them in half if they started something. With 12 rounds in the drum mag, the Bulldog was full enough to take out the entire room.

Rona had an axe, having dusted three vampires on their way in. She was currently circulating, making sure that none of the rest of the bar goers were planning on trying something stupid.

Jenna and Caridad were working crowd control, keeping everyone back while Faith conducted the interrogation.

"I think maybe this guy knows something," Mary said, hoisting a squirming badly dressed man up by his shirt. She dragged him farther into the room and closer to the counter of the bar.

She pushed him up against the wall at the back of the room. A few bottles fell down off the shelf not too far away, shattering on contact with the ground. "How about it? Do you want me to get nasty? You don't want that. But, I will."

Faith walked over and took a seat at the bar, looking tough and letting the younger slayer do her thing. Mary had kept the attitude that she always had when working, but it had been tempered with a certain amount of discipline. She always kept her calm, and always watched her sisters' backs. Of that, Faith made sure.

"I think she means it," Faith smirked at the shaking man. He was a skinny human, and was no match for any of the slayers. It was a wonder that he could hang with the crowds that tended to congregate in demon bars. "I'd start talking if I was you."

Herb, the human, looked from the brunette slayer at the bar to the brunette slayer that was holding him against the wall. He tried to smile, but could only make it halfway. "C'mon, I just came in to use the phone and get a drink, I don't know anything about anyone."

"He's lying," Rona said, turning towards the man. She grinned and showed her teeth as she growled, "I can smell it. Maybe you need to bleed him a little."

The black slayer licked her lips a little, causing the man to jump a little.

"Okay, okay, okay," Herb stammered out, eyes playing across the slayers to the other people in the bar. He just hoped that they wouldn't go after him if he spilled his guts. "Maybe I heard something. What do you need?"

"Boyer, Georges. Also called the Frenchman," Faith stated, standing up and moving to Mary and the man. She came in close, crowding the man. Upping the stress level. "I need to know where he works out of."

"You looking for something? A little go juice? Okay…" Herb squeaked out as he felt the grip on his shirt tighten. "I hear he works out of Cajun Bob's. That's all I know. I swear."

"Yeah, try again," Faith said, nodding towards Mary. That was the place that Xander had given them. Unfortunately, it had proven a dead end and the Frenchman had gone to ground. What little information they were able to dig up said that he was still in New Orleans, but so far they hadn't gotten a handle on where exactly. With the less than subtle way that the night was progressing, they'd need something tonight or else Boyer was sure to disappear and they'd never find him.

She wasn't going to let that happen. Not if it meant failing what was probably going to amount to one of the larger operations that she would personally be leading. Not if it meant proving to the Council that she didn't have what it takes, unlike perhaps the blonde slayer that had come back into their lives. And, not if it meant disappointing the man that had trusted her to lead her fellow slayers.

xxx

City of Perpetual Light…

"Oh, excuse me," Xander said, as he reached out to steady the woman that he had bumped into.

She turned around, looking at the man that was holding her. He seemed young, and was definitely not a local. She looked down at the arm that was still holding onto her hip in a rather personal way.

"Oh, right." Xander let go, as if shocked. He smiled encouragingly at the young woman, though he did not fail to notice Richard's discouraging expression. He took a step back, giving the woman some room. "Sorry."

The woman's eyes traveled down the young man's body towards the weapon strapped to his waist. They widened nearly imperceptibly at the sight of it, though luckily for her it wasn't noticed by anyone.

She took a half-step closer and held out her hand. "It's quite alright. Happy accidents do happen after all. I'm Dominique. You would be that human that everyone's speaking about."

Xander noticed that the last wasn't a question. Evidently, his presence had already spread to a point where he could be easily identified. So much for trying to move around incognito.

He took her hand, feeling a bit discomforted as he bent down to kiss it lightly. He had been schooled in some of the customs of the dimension, though it didn't mean that he didn't think that some were silly or downright embarrassing. He let go and stood straight. "You can call me Alexander."

Xander examined her more closely. She fit the basic mold of the Faerie women that he had seen. Breathtakingly beautiful, though this particular one had long wavy forest green hair, which matched the tint of her eyes. Tanned skin, as if she spent much of the day in the sun. The tone of her arms and curves of her legs bespoke of a lifetime in action. Her current armless shirt and short skirt accented them. Which just made the interest in him all the more suspicious. Though he noted that she smelled rather attractively of the spring, if one could ascribe a season with a scent.

"Hmm, a strong name." Dominique stated, taking her time in sizing the much younger man up. She drew a finger lazily up his robed chest; it was rather disappointing that he had to be wearing such baggy clothes. She was sure that she could have all sorts of fun with the very fit young man. The eye patch was rather fetching on him. "Fitting for such a prized specimen."

Xander gulped as her hand moved down. He took it sharply though as it neared his side. He narrowed his eye at her. "Naughty girl."

"Alexander," Dominique said pouting. The Faerie woman felt the strength of his hand as it held hers up. She took a step even closer to the human. The magic of the weapon at his side was extremely seductive, as was what she could sense of his inner strength. With the right motivation a man like him could be convinced to do nearly anything. And accomplish almost all of them. "I was only trying to examine your weapon more closely."

The way that she was speaking didn't help matters, but Xander made sure that he kept a clear head. "Was that supposed to pass for subtle for the Faerie? Because, I get the feeling that you mean it quite literally."

"Hmm, there is power in you young one," Dominique said, smiling a rather inviting smile. One that had enchanted and entranced many a young wayward knight. "I believe I shall have great fun with you."

With that, the Faerie woman slipped Xander's grasp and ran gracefully into the crowd, disappearing within seconds.

Xander shook his head, finding it hard to believe that a woman with that color hair could blend in so quickly with the crowd, even one made up of such odd people. It had to be magic.

He turned to look at his companion. "What was that about?"

Richard shrugged as he started walking again. He waited until Xander caught up before speaking. "Technically, it's Duchess Dominique of Woodbine Realm. She's Wild Fae, though much more civilized than most. Woodbine's not exactly the closest ally, being located rather far from the empire; they're viewed as cousins. Not that distant, but not to familiar. I believe she's here for the Ball, though I would think that she has other activities in mind."

Xander swallowed again, her scent still clung to the air around him. "I'll just bet she does. There something there I need to know about?"

"There's been some saying that a human was responsible for what happened to Thomas," Richard whispered. He didn't want to the wrong ears to overhear. "Some beings are starting to put things together. The wrong sorts."

Xander considered it for a moment in silence. "And, they'll be looking for me. You know if she's been linked?"

"No." The Faerie shook his head. "Not that I'm aware of anyway, but rank does have a way of distancing oneself from potentially damaging controversy. Still, she's Wild Fae in a land that's not known for concerning itself for what goes on in other dimensions. You think it was a good idea bringing that axe with you?"

"I figured they'd be looking for me." Xander dropped a hand to his side, resting it briefly on the axe head. "Didn't know this is what they'd come at me with, but I knew that I'd never be able to blend in here. Better that they think me prepared than easy pickings. But, what would she want to do with me, not that way, if she isn't related to the Immortal and his dealings."

Richard sent a hostile expression at a small goblin that was paying particularly close attention to them. He didn't speak until they had passed out of hearing range of the small ugly creature. Many goblins were keen scouts with strong senses compared to the Faerie, and it would do them no good to have one lurking about eavesdropping on their conversation. "There could be a number of things. However, Woodbine is to the North. Somewhat near the border."

"And she could want information on how things are going to be handled up there," Xander thought aloud. "Or want particular attention to be paid to an area that could be in danger of enemy attack."

He knew that it was likely one of those things. Strange and beautiful women didn't tend to approach him on the street and start feeling him up. Except for maybe that one time. And that had involved magic that he would never ever do again having learned his lesson. Still, her bearing and closeness had had something of their intended effect. It had him rattled.

"And who better to influence that except for the commander of a fair number of the contingent being sent to the border?" Richard asked, glancing over at the young human. He noticed the perturbed expression on Xander's face. It was better than he could have hoped for.

Xander retuned the look. "Who indeed?"

xxx

New York…

"We have something of a problem," Curtis said, taking a seat at the conference table. "A friend I still have in the Bureau says that the SAC in Cleveland has taken it upon himself to take down Garza's operation. It's been cleared up the chain of command. He's got it cleared and there's a joint task force organizing now. Well, in the beginning stages of being organized. We'd have to take over officially if we're going to do anything. And, let me tell you, Figliuzzi is not going to step aside quietly."

"Who's involved?" the assistant director asked. He waited until everyone else had taken their seats before sitting down himself. His eyes passed over the empty chair at the table briefly. He knew that Xander was away on some unspecified business. Grainer had personally allowed it, and he knew that it was work related. That it was classified even to his level said something about the nature of whatever the young agent was doing. Didn't mean he had to like it though. He didn't want his top team a man down. Especially if the was leader.

Curtis looked at his legal pad. He had some quick notes written on it, though nothing of much direct importance. "Mainly FBI agents, but they're going to be bringing in a SRT over from ATF."

"That's not good," Cindy said, looking at her own paperwork. "I've analyzed the markings that Xander shot. Your basic detection spell, nothing fancy, but strong. Real strong. It'll pick up anything bigger than a fox and anything magical. Anything at all. They go in with a team, they won't be sneaking in. Garza will have the time to prepare, and they'll be walking into an ambush."

"So, what, they go in hard?" Jack put in. "That could work. As long as nothing gets broke, they can do the work for us. We take what evidence they can pull up and handle any interrogations. Easier for us that way."

"They won't know what they'll be walking into," Taylor replied, looking over at the man. He knew the former terrorist's history. But, if Xander trusted him at his side and back, then that was good enough for him. "A joint task force with so many people involved won't exactly be subtle. Even if we get involved, we won't be allowed to say anything that they haven't been cleared for. The people upstairs are clear on this. They don't want any leaks, and without a potential world ending event, we don't get to do things our way. We need to polite. We don't get to force things, like we have done in the past. Let's just say, that the President isn't so keen on us not playing well with others anymore."

Cindy swallowed hard, imagining the outcome of what would happen if the mundane feds were allowed to blunder their way into things. She knew that there was a reason that she hadn't voted for him. "I don't know who set the spells up, but there could be anything out there. Hell, it's in the middle of a forest next to nowhere. A mage could do nearly anything out there without detection."

"There are other concerns," Abigail spoke up from her place at the table. "There may be demons or other creatures being used as protection. One of the Cleveland slayers did take out a Wan-Shang Dhole in a forest near Garza's site. Could be other stuff there. Forest is a big place."

"She's right," Paul put in, turning in his chair to face the assistant director. "We have confirmation that that area has had supernatural occurrances in the past. Vatican records show at least three werewolf attacks in the last ten years on forest rangers, two hauntings, the first being a Class Five Full Roaming Vapor and the second by a Class Twelve Vaporous Full-Torso Apparation. There was also a small dimensional rift opening about twenty years back. Some knights were able to close it within twelve hours, but something could have escaped and could still be there. With no reported unexplainable supernatural attacks since then, it would be possible that Garza took custody of whatever was there and is using them to augment his own personal security. In his stores, where they wouldn't be seen. It's all supposition though."

"Well, the good news is that it'll take some time before they can even consider conducting a raid," Curtis said, towards the group at large. "I've worked with Figliuzzi back in Baltimore, before he moved on up. He's ambitious. But, also very very cautious. If he's bucking for publicity on this, and even making his name known to Director Mueller, then he'll make sure he's got all of ducks in a row. He can't afford to get this wrong. The backlash on a screwup would destroy his career."

"What's SOP for the SAC in this case?" Taylor asked, idly wondering if there was personal history between the two FBI agents, or rather FBI agent and former FBI agent, that would color his agent's perceptions of the special agent in charge.

"He'll have agents conducting research. Paper trails and the like. Along with interviews with everyone that Garza is likely to have had contact with or anyone that has ties to him or his organization," Curtis answered, drawing on his past training. "They'll set up surveillance to see what's out there and to make sure they know what to expect before they go in. He's not going to want another Ruby Ridge or Waco."

"So we have some time." Taylor nodded, satisfied with the response. It wasn't quite what the best they could hope for, but it would do for now. "That's good. It'll give us some room to maneuver."

"Only if they don't set off any detection spells when they're conducing their surveillance," the witch interjected. "Even if I did go in early to lay down something, it won't be permanent. Spells are good enough that anything that could help would require long-term active casting from someone on-site."

After viewing the pictures, she'd sent out a small air familiar to scout the area. It had picked up what she had feared. Very professionally down magic. Maybe not the most powerful possible, but they were strong. Strong and complex.

"Not feasible," the assistant director shot down the idea. "I'll talk to the Old Man, see if we can't take over. Or slow it down so that we can insert our own people, gently. This is American soil, and there might be civilians around. President isn't going to want to some cowboys going rogue, so we have to do this by the book, with the potential bitching we'd get. Let's just hope we have the time to spare. Curtis, stay in touch with your friend. If there's anything off the official channels that matters, I want to know about."

"Yes, sir." Curtis nodded.

"Okay," the assistant director said, turning to face the witch and then the slayer. "Next order of business. Abigail, how you feeling."

"Good. Strong. No ill effects that I can tell from Cindy's spell." The slayer glanced over at the witch. "I think it works, sir."

"Okay, that's good." Lampkin nodded; at least there was some good news. With the successful first test, more had been brought into the circle of those that knew about the potential control mechanism over slayers. Of course, it was still limited to the head of the organization and active personnel that had direct involvement or would possibly be involved. He hadn't wanted to inform Paul of the fact at first, given his loyalties outside of Level 6. But, he had been swayed by Xander's reasoning that it was best to keep on good terms with the Order of Michael. Especially, given that it would likely come up in an operational sense and would just bring conflict if Paul asked why he and his organization hadn't been informed. "Are we sure that there's not going to be any long-term consequences we don't know about down the line? If we decide to scale up, then we need to know. And we need to know now."

Cindy nodded, firmly. She wasn't offended by the question, knowing that magic was still relatively new to the man. But, she hadn't trained most of her life to not know what she was doing. She wouldn't mess around with her friend's lives when it came to magic. The magic that was her gift was also a responsibility. While she could and did use it for recreational purposes, she also took it extremely seriously. "It's clean. Both Dr. Wesker and I examined the neurological scans after I finished. It's permanent, and…to put it in basic terms without explaining the mechanism, it'll do the job I designed it to. I wouldn't have tested on Abby if I wasn't sure I could do it right."

"Good," The assistant director replied, turning back to face all of them. "Okay, until Xander gets back, you guys are all going to be pulling research duty. Kilmartin's team has alpha status until then."

He looked over at the former FBI agent. "Curtis, your friend; make sure that you keep it low key. I don't want any complaints nor anybody clamming up because they find out information is leaking out."

Curtis nodded in acknowledgement.

Taylor turned to Paul and Abigail. "Work the sources you got to find out what could be out there. In the forest, or on site. Paul, check the records on what could live in that sort of environment. See if we can figure out what dimension intruded into our own. I want to know what the worst case is. Abigail, check with the Cleveland slayers. Find out what they know about the area. Local legends or anything they've seen or heard about. Also, I want you to check whatever blueprints you can get on what Garza has built out there. It's probably mostly done through less than legitimate channels, but we could get lucky. Lumber has to come from somewhere. Go through construction permits, check with the local companies and contractors, and see what kind of material was ordered when his little compound was built. It would be good to have Xander looked them over when he gets back also. He left some of the names and numbers of some of the guys he knows in the area, they might be able to help you out. I'll send you that info."

"Yes, sir," Abigail and Paul said in near unison.

"Cindy, work up a plan for large scale deployment of your spell. I want all of our slayers equipped, hopefully before they have to go out in the field. If we're going to strike against whatever force we have working against us, then I want our people protected," the assistant director ordered to the witch. "Whatever you need to help you do it, you get it. It's still classified however. Keep that in mind."

"There's a problem," the witch interjected. "It's got to be done one by one. And I don't have the power to be doing it long-term. Nobody does."

"They have a witch, Rosenburg, some others, if their slayers get involved, we'll have to tell them." Taylor suggested. "Would that work?"

"Willow?" Cindy scoffed. "I wouldn't let her anywhere near this. And, once you start pulling in some of their wizards it will get out. None of the ones that they have that are ours would be enough, and Willow does know enough to be able to pick something up if we use them."

"Okay, work on it." The assistant director grimaced. He knew that there were some problems with the Council's head witch, but he wasn't exactly sure what it meant other than what Xander had mentioned. And, those were mainly stability issues that he had said were pretty much handled. But, if Cindy's expression was anything to go on, it wasn't good. "In the meantime, I'll work through the lists of slayers and pick the ones in vital positions. We'll do them first, work on the others when we come up with a plan. Best we can do for them right now."

"Okay," Cindy replied.

"One last thing. The man we have in custody. Eugene Franke," Taylor said to the group at large. "We didn't get much from him. His background is worthless. He's nobody. And, by the time we managed to get what we could, it was all dead leads anyway. Garza. Garza is the only lead we have right now. People, we need this one."

The assistant director looked at the people assembled in front of him. They were a good group, and differences in origin and training aside, some of the best men and women he had ever worked with. "Get to work."

xxx

New Orleans…

"You okay?" Faith asked, as they exited the bar. She looked over at the leader of the Vindicators. The slayer had gotten a little wilder and more rebellious in the last number of months. Her monthly periods had required some heavy retrofitting to come up with a cage that could hold a slayer turned werewolf.

If a werewolf was super strong, then a turned slayer was like a werewolf on steroids and PCP. That ended up being true in many areas. From heightened senses and strength to a mean attitude.

"I'll be fine." Rona said, breathing deep in the fresh air. Well, it didn't smell that fresh to her nose. "I just need a second. The blood."

They'd ended up knocking everyone unconscious and tying them up. They'd be able to get out eventually, but not before they were able to get to the Frenchman. That was the plan anyway. Of course not everyone was so willing to go with their plan, and some blows had been exchanged. Some harder and sharper than others.

Faith narrowed her eyes as she continued to study the other slayer. It was still a few nights until the night before the full moon, but Rona was feeling it hard. "Don't seem like it."

"I can handle it," Rona snapped back at the head slayer. She knew that what she had been injected with had saved her life. She knew that it was better than the alternative. She also knew that it hadn't been Xander's call or fault, but she couldn't help but feel a little resentful towards him about the situation. It didn't help that she got headaches and cramps near the full moon, and felt like ripping the throats out of nearly everyone that she came across. Slayer or otherwise.

Faith frowned, looking concerned. "I think you need to talk to someone about this."

"I said I'll be fine," Rona said, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. "I just need some time. We got a lead to go on now, and we need to get to him tonight before he disappears."

"Okay," Faith said, not really believing the other slayer, but knowing that they had other things to do that took precedence. "Let's go, we still have work to do."

Faith watched as Rona started towards the car. It didn't mean that she had to let it go completely though. She shook her head, knowing that she would have to do something about the situation in the near future. She followed afterwards, letting the others slayers walk behind her.

The head slayer nearly had to laugh at the turn of events. Her concern for someone else. Her trying to come up with a way to help her fellow slayer, because Rona was a friend and she needed help. New land she had ventured into, and still nowhere near comfortable.

Still, it was a long way from what she used to be.

xxx

London…

"Lyle, I want you to create a plan to insert a team of men to extract someone from this type of location," Roger said, pushing a file across his desk. "Those are the closest we could come to in regards to blueprints for the actual site. We hope to have more later, but these should allow you to get started."

Lyle reached over from his seat and pulled the file to him. He opened it up and flipped through the pages. There were some photocopied building plans and handwritten notes. He didn't recognize the exact building, though suspected that that was part of the whole point. It looked like it was something old. Sturdy walls made of cut stone. A fortress, or castle. Or something else. "The target. A hostage?"

"No," the watcher replied, shortly. "However, she needs to be recovered alive and unharmed. She may be unwilling to go along with the extraction team, but our sources indicate that she shouldn't be much of a problem to handle."

The former soldier looked closer at the plans. He looked up at his employer again. "This won't be an easy job. I'll need to hire more men if you expect this to be pulled off without minimal risk."

Roger shook his head. "I don't think you quite understand. I want you to draw up plans for the operation. And then I want you to train the people that we already have to execute the plan. Shawn Webley will be in charge of the team. I need you and your expertise somewhere else when the mission will be carried out."

Lyle narrowed his eyes, he didn't like what he was hearing, but it wasn't a surprise. The only saving grace was that Shawn wasn't as bad as the others. Not quite as new, even now, as Cole or Eddie. And, not as sloppy as Al was in Egypt. The kid was prideful, but had listened to him. Of course, the only accounted for four men. The other two would not be his own, he knew that much. "You understand that I can't make any guarantees based on this limited information. And, they aren't going to be ready for quite a while for something of this magnitude. They're improving, but not that much."

"That will be acceptable," the watcher replied. He looked at the former soldier carefully, noting the tight expression on the man's face. He had already been informed of the loss of the electronic listening devices that had been planted in their flat. He would have to do something about the man eventually, but for now, the man's skills and expertise were necessary. "I just need you to make sure that they're ready before they go."

"Yes, sir," Lyle said, after a moment. He closed he file and laid it in his lap. He had his misgivings, but kept them to himself. It was an odd thing to have no trust in those that commanded him and his men. It was one thing to have qualms about the decisions of a general hundreds of miles away barking orders over a radio. It was quite another when facing the man giving less than kosher orders. "I'll get right on it."

Lyle stood up and left the office. It was what he had expected. Hell, it was why he was still there. For now, he just had to stomach it until he figured things out completely. It was not an easy task.

xxx

City of Perpetual Light…

He looked in the mirror, tugging at the bottom of the tunic. Unlike Vi, he wasn't allowed to get his current garments custom fitted. Dress uniforms were off the rack, even if they didn't fit particularly well. The standard Faerie, even those in military service, tended to be slighter thinner than the average human male. And, despite the fact that he had lost the fat that he had built up around the midsection over the last couple of years, he still wasn't skinny.

"Yeah, this is not a good look for me." Xander said, turning around to look at Richard. The Faerie was similarly dressed, though he filled out his uniform much better. They were both dressed in dark blue tunics with crimson red capes clasped to their shoulders with gold clasps in the shape of a lion's head. Navy blue pants and shining black boots covered their legs and feet. That they fit well and covered what they needed to was a small blessing.

"I don't know. It's not bad," Richard said, looking the young human over. There would likely be some initial awkwardness to the situation, but he figured that Xander would settle down once needed. Even if the human did look rather awkward in the uniform. "Nowhere near as good as I do, of course. But, it'll do."

Xander laughed once. He flexed his neck back and forth, testing the collar of his shirt. It was tight to his neck, but allowed some movement. "So, anything else I need to know to not cause a diplomatic incident?"

"I wouldn't worry too much," Richard replied, reaching over and adjusting Xander's cape. He flashed to years past when he had had to do something similar when his own son had been Xander's "age." It had been many years since he had had to do something like that for anyone else. Of course, Xander was nothing like his own child. For better or worse. "Just keep your head. The Lady will be escorting you most of the time when you aren't with your own companion. And as a human, new to this dimension, you'll be accorded some latitude. Just make sure you don't punch anybody in the face. This isn't Earth, there are still duels here. And, you can get called out if you offend anybody too badly, and that's not even counting if any of Thomas' partners decide to make themselves known publicly. I doubt it, but still. Also, there will be people that might try to get under your skin; humans aren't exactly looked too highly of around here by everyone. Even wearing that uniform. Check yourself."

"Great," Xander muttered. If he didn't have enough to worry about, he couldn't even get into a fight without having it have some greater socio-political meaning. "Looks like we're ready."

"Yes," Richard said, stepping out into the hall to see if the women were ready themselves yet.

Xander moved to follow, but stopped and turned around again. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair had been cut short. Shorter than he normally wore it. Not exactly a buzz cut, but short enough that it didn't totally lay flat on his head. He had the eye patch on. While he probably could have used a prosthetic, he also knew that it did help his reputation to at least look like he had been in the fight. Especially given how young he was. And that wasn't even comparing to the long years of the Faerie. He muttered, barely hearing himself speak, "I am ready. I am."

He took a breath and took a step back, as close to satisfied as he would ever be. The weapon at his side swung more than he would have liked, something he would have to remember to keep an eye on. Normally an officer of his rank would carry a ceremonial sword, but he had strapped on the axe instead. The weight of it was deceptive and wouldn't be a burden during the long night. It too had a role to play in things, a functional decoration in its own way.

Xander walked out into the main hall, taking a place next to the wall by the stairs near Richard. Lily had taken Vi to the second floor to prepare themselves for the Ball, and they were still up there. It hadn't been a surprise to either of the men. Some things were universal it would appear.

He looked over to his side, seeing that Richard had a calm expression on his face. If the Faerie was nervous, he certainly wasn't showing it. Something that he could do, though usually when it came to the fight and just his own life. "One thing."

"Yes, Alexander," Richard stated, shifting slightly to glance at his friend.

"Vi. Keep an eye on her," Xander asked, meeting Richard's eyes. "If the Lady's going to be bringing me around, then she's going to be left unescorted. Just keep an eye on her when you can."

Richard considered the request. "You think she'll need a chaperone?"

"Not exactly what I meant," Xander replied. He knew what it sounded like, but he knew more about Faerie society than pretty much every other human that had come over with them. He'd paid attention to the books, to Richard's comments, and to his eyes and ears. And nothing he had learned about what they could expect from the Faerie was good. As honorable and trustworthy as some members could be. "Just, keep an eye on her. I don't want some Faerie prince doing something stupid. I don't want her to get challenged to a duel either."

"You think she'll be approached after she comes in on your arm?" Richard asked. The response was fair. Faerie society wasn't specifically gender based. Though the leading monarch was a woman, it wasn't a matriarchy. And, when a man led their government, it wasn't a patriarchy. Status was more important, and given the nature of magic and how physical size and strength could and was offset, that wasn't linked to a particular gender. A woman could expect to be challenged just as easily as a man given provocation, even if it happened less often in fact.

Xander heard movement on the second level and watched as the women started down the stairs. More specifically, he was looking at one in particular. She certainly looked different than she usually did in jeans and a t-shirt. "Oh, I would definitely say so."

Vi moved differently as well as she approached her boyfriend. She smiled somewhat hesitantly as she came up to him. The dress was something vastly different to her experience, and she was unsure as to its appearance and effect. She didn't embrace him in order to avoid wrinkling what she was wearing. "What do you think?"

"You look good." Xander smiled at her. "Better than. Should I be worried? Some rich nobleman may want to sweep you off your feet."

"Thanks, but I have exactly what I want," Vi smiled more confidently back at him. "You look good too. It fits you."

Xander tugged at his tunic again. He figured she meant more metaphorically than physically, though that didn't exactly make him feel any better. At any rate, it didn't fit him like Vi's dress fit her.

The slayer was dressed in a gown of light purple. It didn't look like modern human fashion to his rather inexperienced eyes, though the material was well made and it was crafted with great skill. It was low cut where it needed to be, and hugged her slight curves. A slit up to her thigh on one side allowed to her to walk without discomfort as well as showed a healthy amount of leg.

Some light makeup adorned her face, heightening the fairness of her skin as well as highlighting the color and brilliance of her eyes. Her red hair had been done in small waves that framed her face perfectly. It had definitely been worth the time that it had undoubtedly taken.

"Shall we, my lady?" Xander asked, playing into the rather surreal scene. Renaissance-era shindigs were not his usual type of dance, but he at least wanted to try to play the part. He held out his bent arm towards the slayer.

Vi smiled and took his arm with her own, resting her hand on his forearm. "Of course, good sir."

If it had been anybody else, he would have rolled his eyes, but as it was, he couldn't help but grin at it all. For a moment, he even allowed himself to forget the stakes. To forget that there were two hundred young women that would be deployed tomorrow to a place they had never seen, to fight and perhaps die for people they might never know. To forget that there was another war back home. To forget that there were shadows at the edges, waiting for their chance to strike. To forget that the time was fast approaching that he would personally have to face gods, and spit in their faces.

"You know, I actually am glad that you're here." Xander whispered into the slayer's ear. "It wouldn't have felt right if it wasn't. If it wasn't you."

"I'll always be here for you," Vi responded, in an equally private voice. "I love you."

xxx

Cleveland…

The vampire ran as fast as he could through the night. If he had been alive, he would have been panting many blocks back. As it was, he knew that he didn't have long before he would be caught. He'd have to try something soon, or else he'd be too tired to do anything but die for the second time. Knowing the city, he knew that there were many more places up the street to try something.

Scanning ahead, he noticed a fire escape on the building to the right. The vampire sped up as much as he could, leaping up and grabbing the edge of the ladder. Pulling himself up it, he started to make his way to the top of the building.

The slayer followed quickly, gaining ground easily as she jumped up as well. More ably than the vampire, she was able to scale the fire escape after her prey. She assumed that the other slayers backing her up would be able to follow on their own.

"Shit," Dustin muttered, as he spared a glance over his shoulder. He didn't know who the woman that was after him was exactly, but he had his suspicions. She was making good time after him.

Cleveland was a pretty dangerous place for his kind nowadays, but he had been careful. With the dearth of demonkind due to the routine slayer patrols, he had been able to fill a niche in the underworld that had previously been filled by something bigger and stronger than him. His knowledge of the city and its history had allowed him to blend in better than the various underworld types and pass for normal. By not drawing attraction by taking live victims to feed on, he had hoped to escape detection. Evidently, he had been caught some other way when he was down in the Flats having a drink. It didn't exactly matter now, given that a trio of slayers was after him.

The vampire reached the top of the fire escape and vaulted onto the roof. He ran across it, jumping air ducts until he reached the middle. He turned around, hearing the gravel on the tarpaper roof crunch under his feet. He pulled a small switchblade from his jacket pocket, a weapon that was usually unnecessary. Flicking it open, he waited for the slayers to make it to the top.

The vampire was nervous, though he knew that if need be he could jump off the roof. With the height of the building, the slayers would have a harder time of it than he would. That was the idea at least. It should give him at least a few moments to try to find somewhere to hide. Even though it had been at least a couple of years since the slayers showed up, he'd still have been there longer than they would by far. He knew the city. It was his city. Dustin had been a resident and vampire there since the late 1800's. Long enough for him to have been there personally when it had been nicknamed The Forest City.

And, he'd be damned if he let a bunch of newcomers try to remove him from his home.

He watched as the blonde slayer appeared, two others with darker colored hair flanked her. The main one pulled a stake from somewhere, somewhat surprising given how a number of the patrols carried guns now.

"Don't got to go this way," Dustin said, loudly. He noticed that the others had spread out some, to prevent him from trying to go off one of the sides or to try to flank the main slayer. Which mainly left the back. Not exactly what he would have hoped for, knowing what was there. "You don't have me for any kills, so really, what are you coming after me for. I don't suppose civil rights mean anything to you?"

"You're a vampire," the slayer snapped back. "And, I'm the vampire slayer."

"That's real original," the vampire replied sarcastically. He kept himself from rolling his eyes as he shifted to action mode. He felt his forehead thicken and his fangs come in. They'd be help in a fight. "And which one are you? It's getting hard to tell you all apart."

"Buffy, duh." The slayer advanced forward, stake held firmly in her right hand.

Dustin chuckled once. Then darted towards her, hoping to catch the slayers off-balance. He would be able to use their numbers against him if they all tried to rush him at once. But, the other two stayed back.

Buffy ducked under the vampire's wild knife swipe. She tried to follow up with a stab towards his heart, but he managed to block it with his other hand. She moved back, trying to find a clear shot, striking out with a high roundhouse kick to drive him back and keep a good distance.

She glanced over to her sides, making sure that the other slayers had given her enough room to maneuver. She didn't want them to get in the way of her fight.

Dustin moved back as well, trying to figure out what to do. The demon in him wanted to continue on, but his smarts told him to make a break for it. He sniffed the air for a second, the sting of the tar undercutting the smell of the slayers. He then looked at how the slayers were moving.

The one in front was obviously the leader. The one with dark brown hair was on her right flank. There was confidence in her stance that bespoke of some skill. She could be a problem if he had to fight her and Buffy at the same time. The one on the other side, with dark blonde hair, was less sure. There was hesitancy in the way she moved and stood. As if she hadn't been in a real fight more than a couple of times. As if she was afraid of pain.

"Great, three on one," Dustin said, trying to distract them with listening to his words. "I mean, this isn't exactly fair. How about you come at me one at a time? You know, mano a mano. That'd be fair, right? You're the heroes, shouldn't you guys be fair? Fight with honor and all that jazz?"

He almost had to laugh when the slayer to his right actually sent a look to the main slayer as if asking for advice. Instead, Dustin rushed that way as quickly as he could, working the knife in his hand so that he would be able to stab when he got there.

Lois nearly freaked as the vampire reached her, but she drew on her instincts. Batting the vampire's lunge away with her superior speed, she worked to get her stake into position for a strike to the heart.

"Shit," Dustin grunted as he narrowly dodged the slayer's attack. He moved back and forth, staying in motion in order to find an opening and to prevent being an easy mark. He may be more of a thinker than a fighter, but he hadn't lived this long by not knowing a few moves.

The least experienced slayer moved back and forth, trying to track the vampire's moves. She tried for another lunge, as he moved to his right, but it was a feint. A quick flick of the wrist by the vampire opened up a small gash across the side of her jacket. If she hadn't been wearing it, she might have actually been cut.

"C'mon," the vampire taunted her encouragingly. "Stop playing around. You're wasting my time. I thought you slayers were supposed to be all tough. Warriors. Don't you want to come out to play?"

Dustin edged to his right, moving towards the edge of the roof. He had noticed the other two slayers start to advance on his position, but kept back to avoid tangling themselves up in the other slayer's advances. He'd need to make a decision soon.

"Damn you," Lois muttered, committing to an attack by rushing forward.

Dustin waited until had extended, before knocking the stake aside and sweeping his left leg low into hers. He was on her in a moment, straddling her and flipping his knife around into a reversed grip as she fell back, assuming that he would be quick enough in the dispatch to avoid the other two slayers' attacks to come.

Lois shrieked as she lost hold of the stake. She felt the impact on her legs and tried to spin to avoid the hit, but that just resulted in her landing on her back. The vampire landed on top of her, his eyes shining yellow malevolently.

She watched the knife descend as if in slow motion, when he suddenly turned into dust. She blinked, as the knife dropped down, narrowly missing her neck. Focusing, she saw that Buffy was standing above her, arm pulling back after its downward thrust into the vampire's back.

"Th…thanks," Lois said, rather embarrassingly looking up at her mentor.

Buffy just nodded as she reached down a hand and helped the younger slayer up. "It's okay. You'll get the hang of it."

Lois was one of the newer slayers that had come onboard only a short time after she had come back herself. In a number of ways, the younger slayer had reminded her of herself in years past and so she had taken it upon herself to look after the newer slayer. At the very least, Faith and Xander hadn't had the chance to influence her in their line of thinking. A line of thinking that she was still convinced was ultimately wrong for the slayers, as effective as it may appear in the short term.

"Man, if we had had some of those wooden bullets, maybe we could have got him in the street or something," Lois mumbled as she walked over and picked up her fallen stake. She was still rather angry with herself for her performance in the fight. Definitely not one of her best moments.

Buffy narrowed her eyes a bit, having heard the other slayer's soft personal comments. "You know, there might be people around here. Especially since we aren't that far from downtown. What if you missed? There's a lot of people that could get hurt or worse if you missed. Better that you do it up close, where it's only you and your enemy. That's what we're good at."

Lois nodded, momentarily meeting Buffy's eyes before turning her gaze downwards, stopping on the older slayer's shoulder for a moment. She placed the stake back into a holder on the back of her belt. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Buffy said, smiling briefly. The younger slayer was still inexperienced and didn't handle the fight as well as she would have liked. However, Lois didn't have the practice that she did, and was still learning. The personal coaching that she was doing had had an effect though. The younger slayer was able to fight, if not necessarily with all of the confidence that was necessary. That would come in time though.

Kennedy just looked on without saying anything. She furrowed her eyebrows at Buffy's comments, only partially agreeing with them. The blonde slayer was correct in terms of the potential for civilian casualties on the streets, but disagreed that it meant that the guns and other modern weapons should never be used. She had seen injures that could have been avoided had the slayers been able to engage from farther away. Stakes, swords, axes, and other ancient weapons were their best assets though. The slayers picked them up the quickest and they never needed to be reloaded. There was a reason that slayers had stuck to those weapons for hundreds of years, even though more modern forms of weaponry had been developed.

The slayers had been hardwired to fight with their arms and legs. Their muscles fueling them, with blades and pointy things extensions of their natural movements. Guns had their use, but she wasn't convinced that they should be used as much as Xander was said to use them.

That still didn't mean that they were useless though. It was a conflicting train of thought. One she hadn't chosen to follow completely, somewhat nervous of where she would end up.

Nonetheless, she couldn't say anything now. Giles had put Buffy in charge with Faith out of state. She was the leader, and needed to be followed. She remembered what happened when there was public turmoil amongst slayers. Nothing good would come of it. Besides, it would just cause problems with Willow if she demonstrated disagreement with Buffy in front of any of the other slayers.

Still, she just hoped that Mary and the bunch of slayers with Faith were doing okay in New Orleans.

xxx

City of Perpetual Light…

"Such a lovely child." Lily watched as the young couple attached themselves to each other. It was rather adorable to watch. And Vi was such a nice young girl. She turned to her husband. "They remind you of Cameron and Isabelle."

Richard nodded. His wife knew him well enough over the centuries to not even need to ask. His son and daughter-in-law were living far to the south. An area filled with artists and their patrons. It had been a number of years since he had been able to see them. Partly because of his work in different dimensions, partly because they had grown up as children are wont to do and had moved away. Of course, it wasn't that long, relatively speaking. What were decades to a people that measured lifetimes in millennia and potentially longer? "Yes. A little too closely for my taste."

"They are good people, Varook," Lily chided, lightly. She could feel something of the longing in him.

She felt something of the heartache herself. The Faerie as a people tended to love children, as limited as they were in producing their own. Not through any biological deficiency, but due to the imposition of the government. Long lifetimes meant that populations could explode exponentially if all women of childbearing age kept producing. Especially given that the range of years that they could have children in was quite long. So only a certain number of born children were allowed in any particular family at any particular time. Sometimes there would be decades where no children were allowed to be born. They had been blessed enough to have been allowed three at varying times in their lives. Two sons and a daughter; all grown now. None had been allowed to have offspring of their own yet.

No grandchildren running around, though their own children were grandchildren to a set of grandparents that were still quite active. Watching the two young lovers was like seeing her children and their paramours again, back when they still all lived in the same city.

Still, there would be time enough for grandchildren. There was nearly always enough time, given their lifetimes. Even considering Richard's occupation.

Lily shook herself out of her reverie, still watching the two humans. It was their time now, and she was thoroughly enjoying watching the young woman blossom.

She turned to her husband. "And they fit each other perfectly. You should hear her talk about him. She's enamored with your young friend."

"And, he with her," Richard replied, seriously. He was bringing them into this, though it had been at Xander's request. He knew the responsibility that he bore for the events that had occurred and would occur. The slayers that were put in harm's way, even though he knew that they were better off in the position they were now, than if they had been drafted into the fight.

The Faerie warrior frowned at the thought, and of Xander's reaction if any of the slayers were to be hurt needlessly.

"What is it, my love?" Lily asked, gently.

"He's still a human," Richard said, quietly.

"A primitive then?" Lily questioned, though her tone one of jest.

"No." Richard shook his head. "He's crafty as they come. Highly intelligent and dangerous. He's causing waves, and I do not know how far they will spread. And what the result will be. If I don't know better, I'd say he was Wild."

"Perhaps, but he has some constants," Lily noted, watching as Xander whispered into his girlfriend's ear. "I hope the Lady isn't planning on using that for some scheme of hers. I have a feeling that that would not end well for anyone."

"You and me both, my love," Richard said. He turned to face his wife. He smiled warmly at her; she had taken the time to dress herself well for the event as well. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." She looked every much the noble Faerie woman that she was, clad in her creamy white gown. A strand of platinum with small jewels attached wove through her carefully crafted blonde hair. They tinkled with a small sound like crystal bells as she moved her head. "Ready to go?"

"Of course," Richard said, still smiling. They were going to a Ball after all. It was supposed to be a happy occasion.

xxx

Author's Note: The formatting on this thing looks to be rather screwed up, and the damn thing won't let me save changes made in the editor. I'm beginning to see why so many people leave. I'm too tired to fix it, but hopefully it's still readable. Anyway, it ended up being longer than I thought it would be, mainly because I crammed pretty much all of the existing plotlines into it, something I'm trying to improve on since so many of the first story's chapters were pretty linear and separate from the activities of characters in other plots. Anyway, let me know what you all think. Hopefully with many many reviews. Thanks.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Chapter 14: Outlander**

Xander smiled tightly as he exchanged pleasantries with the Faerie in front of him. It didn't reach his eye, but he knew that it wouldn't matter to the other man. Most of the people there probably didn't have any strong friendships with each other and faking it was usually what one could expect. Such was the nature of their world. They could party together, but it didn't mean they were friends. Putting on an appearance was all that was required at this juncture. Besides, the Faerie was pretty drunk.

At this point, he wasn't even listening anymore. The senator equivalent was blatherinfg on about crop yields from the North in the coming summer and potential shortages if things got bad. Not really his concern, and not really that interesting. All he had to do was keep his mouth shut and make sure that he didn't fall asleep. That would probably be just as rude as if he just walked off, unfortunately.

"So this is where you've wandered off to, Alexander," Angelina, current reigning queen of the realm, said as she approached the young human and one of the politicians that resided in the capital city. She glanced over at the politician, Lucernius, one of those lesser Keepers from the North. Not too influential, and rather accustomed to the fineries that could be had in the heart of the empire, but he did have enough friends to prove worthy of some attention. A particularly large individual, hardly keeping with the Faerie ideal. Something that wasn't uncommon when those from the outer lands ventured into the center for any significant amount of time. "Apologies, Keeper, but I must make sure that our young friend here has enough time to meet with all of our guests. I'm sure that you understand."

Xander looked over to the impeccably dressed queen that was coming to his rescue. She was slight in build, though tall, even for a female of her species. As young looking as Richard's wife, with not a touch of gray or white in her dark black hair, but he knew that she had the years and experience to hold onto her position. She had to, to have stayed in her position this long.

He smiled briefly in appreciation as she took him by the arm and led him off. Lucernius was, at the moment, too inebriated to stop him. As it was, he continued to speak as he was left alone, not even noticing the departing figures.

"Thanks," Xander said, scanning the crowd for a moment. He wanted to avoid getting trapped again. One more of those long and boring conversations and he may have to use the axe on himself. At that point, he was glad for the chaperon. "For a second there, I was afraid that he would bore me to death."

"A horrible way to go," the Lady agreed, chuckling lightly. She smiled brilliantly at the young man. Though a bit rough around the edges, he had the look of someone that could keep up with her. Pity that he was taken. At least, he was for the moment. "His tendency to talk is legendary. I believe that he must have practiced it for centuries before coming here. I imagine there isn't much to do out there."

"Yes." Xander nodded, noncommittally. They stopped near the center of the room, in a recently vacated space on the golden floor. It was early yet, and they were still in the large reception room of the Forum. A place to mingle with the other guests; the hundreds of them. And be seen by those considered important.

He looked at the tree that dominated the center of the entire room. Xander estimated that it stretched up at least a couple of stories, and that the leaves spread to cover much of the top of the room. Given the size of it all, it was certainly no ordinary tree. A beautifully crafted glass ceiling would allow access to sunlight during the day, but as it was night, the twinkling of stars was all that could be seen above through the gaps between the branches and deep green leaves.

"The heart of our country," Angelina said, noting the man's gaze upward. She let him go and stepped to face the tree as well. "It is said to represent our very soul. As long as it stands strong and lush, so shall we all."

"How old is it?" Xander said, trying to ignore the extremely beautiful Faerie woman at his side. He had walked in with Vi, having been presented to the gathered audience with his full rank. She had been mentioned only as his companion. He had noticed some looks upon her from some of the men, and a few women, but nothing sinister as far as he could tell. At the very least, nobody would make any overt move on her given the public connection that had been established. Not intentionally hostile ones at any rate.

"I remember looking up at it as a little girl," the queen stated, taking a half step closer to the human. "My mother would take me here sometimes, when it was open to the public. It was just as large, and just as beautiful then. That was, thousands of years ago. It was said that the very first inhabitants of the city planted it here, in the very center of our empire. Once they had carved it out of the wilderness, of course. That happened tens of millions of your years ago. Isn't that something?"

Xander clenched his jaw and turned his head to look the woman in the eye. With the slight heels she had on, he could look at her straight on. He supposed that was intentional as well, along with how she was encroaching on his personal space. "I suppose there's a lesson there too."

The Lady only smiled enigmatically.

"I am young, but I do know a couple of things," Xander continued, making sure that he didn't appear unnerved by her closeness. "And all empires fade, in time. Nothing lasts forever."

"Maybe," Angelina said. "But, I would hope that you would help ensure that it does not happen here anytime soon. That is at least one of the reasons why you are here, is it not? As one of our allies…"

Xander turned back to face the tree, considering his answer. He wondered how much of his time there was intended to give him some sense of presence. Some sense of home, no matter how slight, would affect his judgment in terms of how far to push things, and when he would decide to cut bait and head for home. Even Richard and Lily's hospitality was suspect if that was the case. Didn't mean that they didn't care though.

"You don't deserve to die," Xander said, at last. "And, maybe we all have some responsibility to make sure that even our distant neighbors don't get disappeared by what's coming."

"Even if there are those here that wish not to see the threat?" the queen of the Faeries pressed. "Or don't particularly value your presence as I do?"

"Maybe especially then," Xander replied. He turned to look her in the eye again. "But, even that has its limits."

"And, I would agree with you." The Lady nodded. She turned her gaze to the tree once more. She ran her eyes up its broad trunk, up to its branches and leaves. Her sharp eyes noted that the buds were already starting to come in. In a few months, they would bloom and the scent of them would fill the Forum. It provided a nice complement to the white marble pillars and columns that ringed the large room. "She is quite something."

"Yes," Xander said laconically, shifting to face the rest of the room. He didn't have to guess what she was referring to. Or rather, who.

"For a human, I suppose," the Lady continued. She had seen the slayers when they had originally come to be presented to the head of state and fitted for their armor and weapons, Vi included in the group. The queen had made sure to pay particular attention to the redhead. In her opinion, the young Violet was hardly an exquisite example of human femininity. Not particularly well-endowed, even by the standards of the humans of the present day. Nor classically beautiful, but the young slayer had her charms, the queen supposed. And a draw of great strength if it meant having to put up with the man at her side. "Even an enhanced one."

"While not common, it is not unknown for a citizen to take more than one spouse. Or even just a companion for a time," Angelina said carefully, though she kept the tone as light as she could. Playful even, though flirtatious would be a better word for it. "I would think that there would be more than one female here that would enjoy your ministrations."

"Are you offering?" Xander replied carefully, a tight smile on his face.

Angelina returned the smile demurely. She moved closer to the man, and placed a hand on his arm, drawing her fingers lightly above its clothed surface. "Do you think you could keep up?"

Xander took a breath, as he looked her up and down. A lot of effort for what, on his part, would be seen as merely a symbolic gesture of alliance. "You really are worried about this aren't you?"

The Lady let go of the human's arm and shrugged, pouting. "It was worth a try."

"Let me guess, it works on all the guys," Xander replied sarcastically. Part of it was cover though. The queen had her charms, and whatever passed for Faerie feminine wiles. Not exactly subtle, and rather obvious in fact, it was pretty clear that most men that it was tried on tended not to dwell on any of the subtleties. Probably been a couple of centuries since she'd tried it on a human. That she had had some effect wasn't something he was particularly pleased about.

"Usually. I must be losing my touch." Angelina frowned playfully. "Perhaps I should approach Violet. Three. Is that not a special number for your people?"

The moment the slayer's name left her lips, the Faerie queen knew that it had been a mistake.

Xander turned to face the queen, his face tight. He smiled lightly to keep what he really felt off of his face, pushing it down inside of him. "You know, it's all fun and games until someone loses an eye."

"I suppose that isn't something you'd be interested in then." Angelina continued, rolling with it. "How very chauvinistic of you. Or perhaps chivalrous."

"No, it's pretty chauvinistic I know. And, I know…I know that to you I'm pretty much a monkey. Primitive human playing dress up in here with all the grownups." Xander waved a hand at the extravagant hall before him. The huge room had filled up by that point with a myriad of people. Not all of them even sharing the same species. "I don't belong. I'm a plaything to you, right? I mean, this is putting on the dog and pony show. Get seen, get heard, make connections. A touch of the progressive, with developing ties with the outside dimensions. That sort of thing. Right?"

"Not all of it," Angelina said, turning serious. "There really isn't that much to do anymore. Things are stable now. Peaceful outside of the usual outsider rumblings. At least, to most of the Faerie here. I have my duties and responsibilities with what I suspect is to come, but as for many of us, things are relatively routine. We have the time to exercise our passions. There may be business to be done here, but it isn't without its share of fun. And, you could prove useful in that respect. If only you loosened up a little."

"And you're making sure that people see us together. And, to let them all know that I'm, what, under your thrall." Xander said, not even needing to ask the question. He noted that some of the crowd was looking at him. A pair of pixies was not being secretive about it either, floating in the air not to far from where they were standing. A quick glare sent them flittering away, a trail of glowing yellow dust marking their wake as they made their rapid exit.

Angelina shrugged, deciding to press harder. It had been some time since she had had the occasion to interact with such a stubborn individual. Not even the knight errants of the past, their devotion solely to God or some kingdom, had such will. "Something like that. Although, I am sure that a strapping young man like you has other uses."

Xander smiled, at least understanding where she was coming from. "I already have all the woman I need. And, I'm sure you can find someone else to warm your bed. Best we keep this professional. For both of our sakes."

"Indeed," the Lady said, smiling that royal smile of hers. It hid a small amount of disappointment though.

"Besides, if you did approach her, you'd have more to worry about than political rivals." Xander glanced around for a moment. There was movement in the crowd. An indication that the Ball was about to get underway. He looked at the woman. He wasn't one to play the political game, despite her rather elevated position. "I am your ally. You've done me service in the past, even if it was to serve your interests. And, I expect that there's other stuff that we'll probably need from each other."

Angelina nodded at that.

"I'd rather keep this professional," Xander said, taking the Faerie's arm. "And as tempting as you definitely are, it's better this way."

"Is it now?" The Lady smiled that enigmatic smile again, as she rested her arm on his strong one.

"We all have plenty of uses for each other as it is," Xander continued, starting the walk to the main room that would be used for the evening meal. "I like you. As much as I shouldn't, you've done me good when you didn't have to. Showed subtlety and diplomacy when you didn't have to. But, this is what it is."

"A pity." Angelina said, walking with him.

"Maybe, but I'm content with what I've got," Xander said, noticing that some of the others had already started towards the main room as well. "And, it's time to go."

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"I don't like this," Faith muttered, looking at the rowdy bar across the dimly lit street. A number of motorcycles were parked haphazardly along the front of it. Loud music came through the open door, and from the smell, it had been serving quite a bit of alcohol that night. Business was good.

Flickering neon lights helped to light up what the few operating street lights didn't. It was a depressing sight all things considered. And not a place that anybody that had a better place to be visited.

"So how do we get in?" Mary asked, from her place at Faith's side. They were standing in the shadow of the abandoned building roughly across from the bar. When the establishment had opened, and its clientele had established itself, property values had dropped and most of the other businesses around it closed down. There was nobody on the street that wasn't at the bar. No cars going down the road, and certainly nobody strolling the street enjoying the night air. Which suited their purpose just fine.

"Getting in isn't the problem," Faith said, glancing over at the young slayer. With their looks, getting into a sleazy bar was never a problem. Men were so easy when it came to the fairer sex. "It's getting out."

"So what do we do?" Mary asked her leader. It was odd. Even a couple of years ago they probably would have went in by now. And, she wouldn't have asked for direction, given Kennedy's ability to emphasize how strong and independently capable slayers were.

To be honest, even Faith would have simply walked in a couple of years ago. Played things by ear to accomplish the mission and to escape. A lot had changed.

"I'm thinking." Faith said, looking at the bar again. She'd been in a number of places like it before. What was inside wouldn't surprise her, but it likely would the people with her. The closeness and the smells that would be even stronger in the bar would be overwhelming for the werewolf slayer hybrid who was already on edge. And too many girls in a place like that, no matter how hot, would be surprising as it was. She'd actually have to come up with a plan of action. "Let's get back to the car."

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"So how did things go on patrol, Buffy?" Giles asked, watching as the slayer slumped down into the chair in front of his desk. He suppressed a wince at how she treated the antique chair, hearing it groan to bear the force of her descent.

"Just one vampire," Buffy replied, crossing her arms across her chest as she stretched out on the plush chair. "Pretty dry out there now. I guess they know we're here to stay. Took long enough."

"Right," Robin said, from the corner of the office. He refrained from remarking on who had put in the hours to make it happen. Cleveland was mostly locked down at that point, only the usual riff-raff that was impossible to do away with. Usually that was a good thing. It allowed them to have some contacts they could lean on if anything came down the mystical wire. "Anything unusual? Names? Anything rising?"

Buffy shrugged after uncrossing her arms and resting them on the arm rests. "Nothing really. I mean, he seemed a bit smarter than most of the vampires we come across, but it's nothing different. Nothing I haven't handled before."

Robin shared a glance with the head watcher. It was something that they had discussed in the past. A theory with some support, but no practical value as of yet.

"Indeed," Giles said, turning back to face the slayer. "We have some theories about that. With the number of slayers there are now, and the time that has gone by, we think an equilibrium of sorts has been reached. Within the supernatural community."

"Meaning?" Buffy asked, noticing the shared look between the two watchers. She filed that away for future consideration.

"Meaning that you're probably going to be facing stronger and stronger vampires from now on," Robin put in. He walked over to the desk, still standing. "With constant patrols, here and elsewhere, the inexperienced vampires are the first to go down. With them gone, the usual minion positions are being filled by older and therefore more experienced vampires. And, with less distraction to cover their presence, those same vampires are the ones that we're going to confront on an increasing basis."

"You see where we're going with this, of course." Giles continued.

The blonde slayer looked at both of the men. "Uh, not really? We face tougher vampires now, that's it."

"There are other issues. Fighting abilities and related characteristics aside, the balance of power has changed," Robin said. "Without the lesser vampires to hide their presence and actions, the more experienced vampires will be under increasing attack and threat by us. They're going to smarter and more willing to think with complexity. With the connections that they will gain by taking on new roles within existing organizations, they may turn that focus onto us. Organized opposition, instead of their usual activities and scattered attacks. That's something we really haven't faced before. And, something we're going to have to prepare for."

"What are you talking about?" Buffy asked, shaking her head.

"Do you know where Faith is?" Robin asked the slayer.

Buffy furrowed her brow, not getting the tangent. "She was sent on some mission, right?"

"That's correct, Buffy," Giles said carefully, sparing a glance at the field watcher next to him.

"She's in New Orleans," Robin continued on, ignoring the look. Subtle wasn't his style. "We sent her after the Frenchman. She took the Vindicators as back up. In fact, they're probably making their move now."

"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed, sitting up in her seat. She looked at the head watcher, surprise evident in her eyes. "I thought I was going to handle that."

"It was a field decision," Robin said bluntly, waiting for her to turn her gaze onto him before continuing. She certainly didn't seem pleased, as expected. "It's my call, not his. I sent the people I felt were best for the situation."

"Robin is right," Giles said, backing up his second in command. As much as he may care for the slayer seated in front of him, he had the Council to run. And it was bigger than any one slayer. He hoped that time at the headquarters, working with the others, would have given her more of a sense of duty and leadership. He still hoped that it would, but she was quickly running out of time to demonstrate leadership potential. He had given her more allowances than perhaps he should have already. "He is in charge of field decisions, and whatever you may have believed or do believe, it is his decision on how to allocate our forces. Besides, I thought you wanted to get a handle on the situation here first. To integrate yourself within the organization and its methods before taking on complex field missions."

Buffy reflected on what had happened that night. Especially Lois' comments and Kennedy's lack of reaction. "It still should have been me."

"No, it shouldn't have," Robin replied. "I made a call. You have a problem with that, you bring it up now. Not when we're done and you go back to the slayers. I make a decision, I issue orders, and they're carried out. By you all. This isn't a democracy, and you don't get to complain when you have a problem with how things are run. You do that in private, and we discuss it like adults. Not out there, in front of the slayers. We can't have dissension in the ranks. That gets people killed."

"She's reckless. Impulsive," Buffy said, after a moment. "She thinks without acting. She gets people hurt. Or worse."

"The same could be said of you," Robin countered, calmly. He may have given her a job as a school counselor, that was hardly based on her ability to understand people. "Look, I needed a field commander. And, I needed a team to back her up. That's what the job is. I picked from what I had. I picked the best of what I had."

"And you think you're in the best position to do that?" Buffy retorted. "It's not like you're completely unbiased towards her."

"No, I'm not," Robin admitted. It had been a concern, but he was fairly sure that he could handle it. Faith, nor the others for that matter, would allow it to become an issue. And Xander surely wouldn't, and he would be the worst of all if it came to that.

"But…" Buffy stumbled out, surprised at the admission.

"And knowing that, I'm able to make these decisions clearly," Robins continued. "I don't make exceptions for the person that I'm sleeping with, no matter how much I may care for her. That's part of what being a leader is. And if you ever want to be that, if you ever want to be more than just a slayer, a grunt, then that's something you're going to have to learn. Responsibility is inherent in the job. And if you had been here from the star, if you had worked with her, then you would have learned that that's something that Faith has now. And that's why she's out there. And not you."

"Why?" Buffy asked, glossing over the field watcher's comments. "Because Xander wanted it to be her?"

Robin sighed, shaking his head. As much as he wanted to try to get through to the slayer, it was like talking to a brick wall. Sure, it might eventually get through, but only after more work than was worthwhile. It was a wonder that Giles thought so highly of her. And, put up with her so long.

"This isn't about Xander," Giles interjected, beginning to get irritated. At least, more than what was becoming his natural state when it came to the young man. "And I really wish that you would stop bringing him up. He doesn't work here, and we don't do everything he says."

Robin glanced to the head watcher, and then looked at the slayer. "We listen to what he says, because he has good ideas. Because what he says has merit. But, we are not beholden to what he advises. And we aren't beholden to what you say either. Now, do you have any valid criticisms for us, or do you simply want to whine about Xander or Faith and me some more?"

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Xander counted off in his head, visualizing and trying to remember the steps that Richard had taught him. It was supposed to be easy. So easy that even a fool could do it, especially for someone that could fight without tripping himself up. A good, basic dance that would fit with the limbs and sizes of the variety of species that would be there. Unfortunately, inexperienced ball room dancers with only a single eye was not something that had been considered when the steps had been designed. And the combat skills didn't exactly transfer over. Even a fool could do it indeed. Who was the fool now?

He glanced up, looking at the slayer that he was holding. He noticed the distracted expression on her face. "Penny for 'em."

"Sorry," Vi blushed, having been caught in an awkward moment. She had been thoroughly enjoying her time there. It was like something out of a fantasy movie or period piece. Still, she hadn't forgotten the circumstances of why she was there. "Just thinking about them."

"I know," Xander said, understanding how she felt without needing it said aloud. "Feels like I should be there with them. I don't like having them out in harm's way without knowing the situation."

"It's just that, I feel like it should be me out there," Vi said, being able to talk and dance at the same time with little difficulty. "I'm no different from them, and if they're going, I should be too."

Xander took more time to respond, having to split his attention between moving and the conversation that was obviously important to his girlfriend. "We all have our roles. They've been specially trained for this, and that's why they're out there."

"And if I had wanted to go, would you have let me?" Vi queried.

Xander didn't respond for a moment, concentrating on turning with the music. "After some heavy browbeating, yes. If I felt that you were prepared."

"It doesn't feel right," Vi said, frowning. "I'm here dancing at a Ball, while they're going to be out there fighting. They're slayers, and I'm here dancing."

"Hey," Xander said, encouragingly. He caught her eyes. "Look, I understand how you feel, but don't think that you aren't doing your part. Back home, there's a fight that you are a part of."

He took another couple of turns. "Having a life outside this isn't a crime or something you should be ashamed of. This is just one front, and you're doing plenty on another. That's it. Nobody can accuse you of not doing your part. So, enjoy yourself. Have some fun. You deserve it. Unless there's someone else you want to be dancing with? Lily maybe, cause I would be totally done with that. I think her husband would be too."

Vi laughed, squeezing his upraised hand lightly. She spun into the dance, enjoying the moment. The ethereal music around them guiding their actions. It was actually fun.

They danced on, enjoying their moment together. Just two young people, having a night out. Dancing, as well as they could, together. One side obviously superior to the other in that respect.

"What's wrong?" Vi asked, watching as Xander looked down for the tenth time. The thought of the Ball had sounded appealing at the time, but she hadn't put much thought into the logistics of the matter.

One of those small details was the fact that there would be actual dancing involved. It sounded nice when hearing about it, but it was another matter completely when one was actually there, in the dress, surrounded by hundreds of people in their finest finery. Still, she had taken a dance class as an elective, and at the very least, it wasn't a particularly difficult type of dance.

The slayer skills helped; balance and rhythm were natural for her. Too bad that didn't cross over to her date.

"Trying not to step on your feet," Xander said, looking up again. "I really didn't think this one through, you know. Partying at the Bronze was never like this."

"C'mon, it's fun." Vi leaned in closer, moving a hand around his waist as he did the same to her. She laid her head on his chest. "Besides, I thought you liked that class."

Xander chuckled nearly silently, though he knew that she could feel it. "Uh, actually I didn't."

The slayer pulled back a bit and looked him in the eye. "Then why'd you come with me?"

Xander shrugged as well as he could, still holding onto his girlfriend's waist with his arm, the other still on her hand in the air. "You wanted to take it. Was the right thing to do. Besides, it let me spend time with you. And, maybe I didn't want some other guy dancing with you. You know, some tall dark stranger that would sweep you off your feet with actual dance steps that were in time with some type of rhythm or music."

"Jealous?" Vi said, a smile touching the corner of her lips.

Xander frowned, knowing that it hadn't really been in him to be jealous over her before. Maybe it meant that his feelings were deeper, or that he was more insecure than he had previously thought.

He smiled at her, suppressing the thought. "Maybe just a little."

"It's kind of flattering actually." Vi leaned in again, resting her head on him again.

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"I am going to kill you," Simone muttered through grit teeth. The bar was rather loud with pumping rock music, but with Faith standing next to her head, she was sure that the other slayer could hear her grumbling.

She didn't want to think about what the wet and sticky areas on the table she was lying on were. The slayer knew that she would end up having to burn what she was wearing after the night was done.

They'd gone in a couple at a time to prevent too much attention. Or at least, the wrong type of attention. It didn't matter at this point. Once in nobody cared how they go there.

Faith just smirked at the slayer, watching as Caridad did a body shot off of the pink-haired slayer, Simone's shirt pulled up to show off a taut stomach. The sight was attracting a crowd as intended. Rum cream going through a slayer's system on the job wasn't the best idea, but one couldn't always be choosey. Besides, with Caridad's metabolism, one drink wasn't going to be that bad, even if she did have to do something physically complex soon afterwards.

"Check it out," Jenna said, looking at the door to the back. She leaned over from her position on the other side of the prone slayer and whispered into Faith's ear. "That looks like him."

Faith looked over, noticing that the majority of clientele in the bar, mostly male and rather scruffy looking, was checking out what the two slayers were doing. Evidently, the two slayers who were now sharing the drink between each other was attracting attention. Men were easy that way. The women in the crowd didn't look too happy about the situation. All the better for when distraction time came around.

The rather disreputable crowd was certainly getting into it. In a minute, some of them might want some personal attention from the two young women who were obviously not averse to displays of public drunken affection.

Mary had taken a position separate, moving about to make sure that nothing unexpected happened when it went down.

"Get ready for it," Faith whispered into Jenna's ear. She glanced over at the two slayers who were still going at it, and inclined her head once the one facing her had caught her eye. The signal to be prepared.

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"I can't believe that Giles is siding with him," Buffy ranted, as she paced back and forth in her room. Not even explaining who she was complaining about, though at this point it was pretty obvious who it was. "And even Robin is agreeing."

"Well, maybe he had a reason," Willow said, clutching a pillow to her chest. She was sitting on Buffy's bed and watching her best friend get things off of her chest. Her meeting with Giles and Robin obviously hadn't gone well. And her blonde friend had called her up to her room to discuss it. Or more like to listen.

From what she had heard from Kennedy, they'd found a vampire and had killed him. But, something had happened that made Buffy angry. Something that Kennedy wasn't ready to talk about yet. Even Lois wasn't saying anything, and had gone straight to the barracks that she shared with some of the other slayers.

Buffy stopped and turned to look at the redheaded witch who was sitting on her bed. "Don't you start too. I just can't get it. What do they see in him?"

Willow sighed, putting the pillow back onto the bed. "Maybe they trust him? I mean, he hasn't exactly let us down. And whenever we've asked for help, he's been there."

Buffy just glared at her. Though she had been back for some time, she hadn't had that much occasion to think about Xander. Only now that he was interacting with them again was she allowing herself to reflect on him again. "And how'd he get that good? I mean I heard that he beat up a slayer during training. How'd he do that?"

Willow met her look and held it. "From what I heard, it wasn't exactly a fair fight. I mean, Kennedy said he hit Mary with a club a bunch of times. And that was like a year and a half ago. They said he's probably even better now."

"See," Buffy said, waving a hand at her. "He shouldn't be doing that."

"He won," Willow said, shrugging. She hadn't had much interaction with him herself, especially after that one particular incident a year or so ago. The witch wasn't exactly sure if she was sorry for that or not. "I guess that's why he's still around. He went to Africa and all, and from what the slayers have been saying it wasn't a fun time to be had. He must have picked some things up."

"Yeah, and now he's spreading it out to the slayers," Buffy grumbled. She walked over and plopped down on the bed next to the witch. "I don't like it."

Willow looked at her friend with a calculating gaze. "You don't like it because you think he's wrong? Or because he's showing you up?"

Buffy just looked at her.

Willow continued to push, "I mean Giles and Robin asked for his help. Dawn even asked. They think he's worth consulting with for input on what we're doing. Maybe they have a point? Maybe?"

"I don't trust him," Buffy said, after a moment.

Willow thought about it. It was true that the watchers had asked for Xander's help, which he had freely given. And, it was true that he had proven his competency in the field. Though she didn't have first hand experience, she had read the reports of the slayers that had worked with him. They were all rather highly flattering. Even the watchers that had worked with him thought well of him, even if it was obvious that some things had been left out of the reports. But, even with that, especially from what she had found in his head, and how he had been less than forthright in regards to his employer, she had to agree with the blonde slayer.

"I don't trust him either," Willow admitted. She wanted to, despite all that had happened. He'd obviously proven that he could do what he set out to, but the steps he was willing to take, and the lines he was willing to cross were too much for the witch. She had had her own walk on the dark side, and it wasn't something she wanted to see happen to him.

Buffy nodded in grim satisfaction. "What does Kennedy think?"

Willow shrugged, pouting a bit. "She hasn't said much about it to me. It's getting kind of annoying."

"Even Lois is listening to him," Buffy said. "I think we need to start taking steps to deal with this."

Willow frowned, not knowing what to do.

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Xander stood off to the side in the ballroom, taking a long sip from his drink. It was some kind of juice, but he wasn't too concerned with the taste of it. Vi had been heavily into the dancing after their little discussion, and it had gotten rather hot with the crowd of people. Slayers and their abundance of energy; it was a full time job just trying to keep up.

The human watched as Lily talked with Vi as they strolled the edges of the dance floor, Richard following a short distance behind. The Faerie was probably telling his girlfriend about the Forum, given the way that she was pointing things out to the slayer. Of course, with some of the looks they had turned towards him, he didn't want to think that other things were probably being discussed as well.

"Enjoying yourself?" a Faerie woman said, appearing next to him as if by magic, her melodic voice breaking into his reverie.

Xander kept himself from jumping, taking an extra moment to swallow before turning around and looking at the woman that was talking to him. The long green hair was done up, wavy locks on top of the woman's head in a complicated mess that somehow seemed to complement her overall look. A few stray locks framed her face in a complementary manner. It was different, but he recognized her easily.

"Yes, very much," Xander said, putting his empty goblet down on one of the long tables that rested next to the wall. "How are you, Duchess?"

"You've been checking up on me. Should I be flattered?" Dominique purred in a low tone, taking a step closer to the human. "I'm doing very well. You look good yourself, although you certainly seem parched. Your companion wearing you out?"

Xander didn't react visibly. "She's having a fun time too. The both of us. Having a fun time together. With my date. Together. Did you come here with someone too?"

Dominique shrugged, the movement doing interesting things to her cleavage. The silken dress that she was wearing was short and rather tight and low cut, leaving little to the imagination. Magic was probably required to ensure that it stayed up, although she would likely not be embarrassed if that failed. As it was, the dress wasn't out of place considering what some of the other guests were wearing. Fauns letting the fur on their bottom halves cover them without any other clothing, to halflings wearing what looked to be suits made out of leaves and bound by thin branches and grass. Some of the water nymphs, looking like they were made of living water, were not wearing anything at all. "She's getting something to drink."

"I see," Xander said, dryly. Making sure that his imagination didn't get the best of him. "I think I should be going now. It was good to see you again."

Xander made to walk off, but Dominique grabbed his arm in a deceptively strong grasp and turned him around. He had to refrain from using her momentum to send her to the ground. That wouldn't look very good in front of everyone. She moved closer to him, making sure that the human could feel her body against him. The beautiful Faerie woman leaned her head closer to the man's ear, her lips almost touching. The Faerie whispered to make sure that only he could hear her. "See that Fae over there to the right? The one in green velvet?"

Xander ignored the warmth on his back, idly noting that she was speaking English. Probably an affectation for his sake. He looked toward the direction that she had indicated, noting the figure in question. Rather thin and pretty looking, the Faerie didn't look overly impressive compared to others of his kind. Dark eyes and hair weren't uncommon in the crowd, though the man's expression was decidedly more serious than average. Not there to party then. "What about him?"

"I believe that you two have a mutual acquaintance," Dominique said, running a hand on his back, though not too much lower than was appropriate given the circumstances. "A Faerie you would know by the name Thomas Fairchild. I believe that he referred to himself as the Immortal."

"I don't know what you mean." Xander said, continuing to look at the Faerie in the crowd. The man didn't seem particularly interested in anything in the room, and didn't appear to be looking for him specifically. Although, given the crowd it probably wasn't very politic to make a scene in such esteemed company. A stiletto in his back in some dark alley was probably more of what he could expect if the Faerie with a mutual acquaintance proved to have a problem with him continuing to breath. "I don't recognize the name either."

Dominique smiled, making sure that the human could feel it on his ear. "I'm sure you don't. But, if you're at least a little bit interested, he would be Thomas' cousin. Rather close one. They were business colleagues after all. His cousin's…death, as unfortunate as it was, cost him a good deal. I'm rather surprised that he decided to show up here at all, given that he is hardly very popular now with the controversy and all. But, you wouldn't know anything about that, now would you?"

Xander turned and took a step back, preventing the woman from keeping her grip without a display of public force. He looked the Faerie woman in her eyes, wondering exactly what game she was playing. "So, if he does have a problem with me for whatever reason, that I don't know about, why exactly would you be telling me all this? What do you want?"

Dominique continued to smile at the human, keeping up appearances. "I'm sure you know. Whatever you may think of me and what I do, I do care about my people. And, would it really be so much of a chore to ally yourself to me? I'm sure we could be of much use to each other, in all areas of our developing relationship. You may consider this a gift."

"I seem to be getting those a lot. I ain't that good looking. And, a woman like you surely isn't that hard up for companionship," Xander stated. "And what exactly are you giving me here? And what do you want?"

"Knowledge. That is power." Dominique replied. "Raphael does not have the strongest standing here. While he surely wishes to avenge the dishonor, I believe that he may value his position above all, and ignore the slight. Concentrate on building up his base of power again. It could go either way though. We are a fickle bunch."

"Go on," Xander encouraged. He glanced over to Vi and Lily. Richard had joined them, and he seemed to be making sure that he was between the women and Raphael. It may just be coincidence, or Richard thought that something was up with that particular member of his people. That wasn't a heartening thought.

"I am not close to him, although there are things that your friend does not know about him that I do. And, the Lady cannot become involved in such a personal matter if Raphael chooses to approach you directly. By the rules of our society she cannot interfere in a lawful challenge. And he certainly does have reason to, as you know, even if you do not wish to express it," the Faerie explained. She didn't know herself with any concrete certainty, but it didn't matter at this point. All that mattered was that Raphael suspected. "I can tell you what I can, in good faith. Just a little something to remember me by."

The duchess continued to smile that alluring and enigmatic smile. She had seen the way that he had tried to avoid looking at all of her. That he had succeeded just made the challenge all the more entertaining.

"I'm not making any deals," Xander said, strongly. "I consider the lives of all innocent people when it comes to these types of decisions, yours and others. That's the best I can do."

Dominique shrugged again. "It's a start. And, just as long as you consider my people. They are not always seen as important, given the size of my kingdom relative to what else is out there. The Lady has other areas, wealthier areas, that she turns her attention to. She must, and it is not her fault, but I must do what I must, as she does."

"I understand," Xander said, nodding. "But, it would be improper of me, Faerie custom or not, to be influenced in such a way. I value all your lives the same. Those that dwell here in the Capital, or in Woodbine. In the North. South, anywhere. Maybe it's because I am an outsider, but this isn't necessary."

Dominique looked at him carefully. She had met and interacted with humans in the past, though none had had the strength of character that he was demonstrating. Although, they probably did not know as much about the Faerie as the one-eyed human in front of her did. She inclined her head, dropping the act. She spoke softly, and without affectation, "I truly think that you mean that. Thank you."

Xander shrugged.

"Very well. If something occurs because of any past interactions with the Fairchild line, then I will do what I can to help you discreetly. A gift, nothing more. Nothing attached," Dominique said, hiding the uncertainty in her voice. She was used to playing the game, but this human was different. He wasn't willing to do things the way that Faeries did, and was not as easily susceptible to Faerie charms as humans typically were. Having to play things straight was not something she was used to. And hardly the preferred method for Faeries to get things accomplished. "It's the best, as you say, I can do."

Xander continued to look at her, trusting himself to be able to tell if he could trust her. He concluded that he couldn't, but that she wasn't lying to him now. There would always be other opportunities for her to try to influence him, but at the moment, the opportunity to continue the interaction was a win for her. And, could prove to be of his benefit too. "Thank you."

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Faith carefully reached behind her back, making sure that she didn't draw any attention to her movement. With the crowd still pressed in and focused on two other slayers, it wasn't that much of a challenge. She didn't bother looking at the other slayers herself, trusting that they were busy with their own tasks.

She watched as Boyer came closer to the crowd. Evidently, the rowdiness of the attraction had drawn his attention and he had come down to take care of it, or just to watch. It was what she had hoped. While she had come up with something of a backup plan, this worked better. At least, it would if they would be able to get out once she was done.

He was not a particularly striking individual. About medium height and build, the Frenchman was in what looked to be his mid-thirties. Not what one expected from some underworld type, especially one that had earned a moniker. Still, Faith supposed that his appearance probably helped him and kept people constantly underestimating him. From Xander's information, he shouldn't be that much of a challenge, although he was still dangerous. She couldn't be overconfident.

A human, from the files. Just one of those people that stayed in the supernatural by choice. Earning a profit off of the misery of other humans. Worse, in his own way, than the monsters and demons that preyed on humanity.

Faith pulled her hand down to her side, the throwing knife hidden in her palm. Though heavier in the blade than the hilt, it was still less than a lethal weapon. Throwing knives seldom were. Of course, in the hands of a slayer, and given the speed at which it could be thrown, the still slight weight of it was not a problem.

Mass multiplied by acceleration as Faith whipped her hand up and behind her head, and then down, throwing the knife towards her target. The slayer had waited until the ideal moment, and nothing was in the way of her aim. The knife hit true, the force of the throw embedding it deep into the Frenchman's head.

She hadn't even hesitated to make the throw. Maybe that was why Xander had made her take care of the rogue slayer in Mexico in what seemed like ages ago. Being able to look at the helpless target before her very eyes, and to be able to strike without mercy and compassion…next to that, this was nothing. Nothing at all.

His bodyguards had no time to react to the sudden attack, when Jenna and Mary suddenly started to punch at the bar goers that had gathered around to watch Simone and Caridad go at it. It was as if a bell had rung and a bar fight had ensued.

Faith joined in, not bothering to engage in pointless self-reflection, elbowing a man in a black leather jacket in the stomach and flipping him over her shoulder. He hit a few of the men in front of her. She noted the other slayers sweep out, doing much the same. Causing chaos wherever they turned.

With the fight's eruption so soon after she had thrown the knife, nobody in the bar except for Boyer's men even knew that it was more than a bar fight. As anticipated, the brawl prevented Boyer's men from attempting to get to them.

"Let's go!" Faith shouted above the rising din, she elbowed her way past the other patrons who were getting into the fight as well. The other slayers flanked her, watching the Frenchman's men try to get to them. With the distraction and cover provided by the bar fight, it was an impossible task.

Faith made it to the front doors, having to punch a few people along the way. With her slayer strength, she made sure that they went down in one blow each, though not enough to kill any of them. While most likely less than reputable, she didn't know if any of them were guilty of anything, and so didn't do anything that she might come to regret.

They made it out the door into the night air, with only a few chasing after them. Faith kept running, not looking behind her. She heard the sounds of gunfire as Rona let loose with a couple of shots from her shotgun.

Faith turned around, watching as the remaining slayers followed her, taking up positions on their flanks. Rona had advanced from her station watching the car when she had heard the fight erupt. The slayer had taken up a position closer to the bar and was now moving slowly backwards firing her street sweeper a few more times to keep anybody from following them.

The lead slayer was somewhat surprised that nobody had gone for a gun of their own, but she wasn't about to look the gift horse in the mouth. Bar fights probably weren't uncommon in that place, and deaths would just bring unwanted attention for everyone there. "C'mon, let's go!"

Faith reached the waiting car, the engine idling and making a steady sound against the inconsistent report of the shotgun. The other slayers piled in, with Faith in the driver's seat. She looked over her shoulder at Rona, who was bringing up the rear. "Get in. Now!"

Rona complied, taking one last shot at the crowd that had just re-entered the bar. She piled into the car behind Faith's seat, making sure that nobody would follow behind.

Faith pulled away as soon as Rona was in, not even waiting until the door was fully shut before speeding down the empty street. She looked in the rearview mirror, making sure that nobody was speeding after them yet.

The head slayer took a deep breath and held it for a while, letting it out slowly through her nose. She was still on a combat high, not unexpected given what had just happened, and it would be some time until she had calmed down. It didn't mean that she didn't have to think straight though. She was in charge, and had to make sure that they got away clean. That was her responsibility.

With most everyone in the bar drunk, and no cameras to be seen, it was unlikely that anybody would be able to identify them. Especially given how dark it was inside. Besides, it was doubtful that most of the men had been really paying attention to their faces anyhow.

The car was a rental, fake identification used to secure its temporary usage. There would be little way for anybody to track them that way once they had gotten rid of the vehicle. At least, it would be difficult for someone of even the Frenchman's status to find them. She knew that they were lucky though. They may have done it on their own, but they had been helped by the fact that the Frenchman wasn't overly powerful or connected.

As it was, they were strangers to the city and would soon be out of town. With Boyer dead and little to go on, there was little chance of anybody coming after them for what just happened. There was always some chance, but that was the price of what they did. The mission was finished, and nobody on the right side got hurt. Pretty much the best outcome that she could expect.

Xander would have been proud. She was proud of her slayers.

Faith sighed, knowing that that wasn't the end of it though. Rona was increasingly having difficulties in the field. Problems that would undoubtedly continue even if she were pulled off of active duty. Ones that Faith wasn't sure that even Giles could help the hybrid slayer with. As it was, none of them had any real experience with what to do with a slayer turned werewolf. Or even werewolves in general. And, none of Giles' contacts were of any help. She knew that Buffy and Willow had known a werewolf in the past, especially the witch. Her to, kind of. But, they were still unable to locate him. That was probably something that she would have to consult Xander on.

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Buffy looked in the mirror. It had been a long night and she had just brushed her teeth in preparation for going to bed. Her talk with Giles hadn't gone well. And, while Willow hadn't flat out disagreed with her, the witch wasn't exactly on her side either. There was inner conflict in her friend, that much she could tell.

It was like everything was falling apart. Her relationship with the Immortal hadn't exactly turned out well. Though at this point, she had come to realize that that had less to do with Xander and more to do with her choice in boyfriends. Although Xander hadn't had to be so confrontational about it. Her relationship with Giles wasn't as strong as it had been, even though she had left for a while, leaving him to take care of the slayers, it wasn't like she hadn't kept in contact with the watcher as much as she could. She'd been gone for a year or so, but she had been back for nearly half that time.

Even Dawn was different. Much more mature than what she remembered her sister as being. A watcher now, in training or otherwise, that was what she was now. She remembered that Dawn had applied herself in that last year in Sunnydale, learning languages and doing the research. Nothing like this though.

It was like she had left on vacation and had come back with the whole world changed. Giles was no longer her Watcher, and paid more attention to just being in charge of the Council. Robin had taken on the role that Giles used to play in her life in a more general sense, with various other field watchers taking command of slayers out in the world. Willow had Kennedy and magic, and other than some discussions that they had sometimes or lunch dates, the witch wasn't much of a part of her life anymore. Sometimes days would go by without seeing the witch, despite the fact that the two lived in the same house now. And, Willow didn't support her decisions as she had done, for the most part, in the past. Dawn was less the little sister, and in fact sometimes made her feel as if their roles had been reversed. As it was, despite Faith having the same attitude that she always did, the brunette slayer was the one that most of the others looked up to. The one that made decisions and settled disputes. The role that she should have had. The role that she should have.

And Xander, the 800 pound gorilla in the room, had changed the most. He wasn't even living in the same city, and had taken slayers with him when he had left Cleveland. And Giles had just let it happen. It wasn't just the guns, or the fact that he was something of a badass now. Or having bulked up and picked up that veneer of darkness that she had to admit had been attractive in both Angel and Spike. It was that he wasn't her Xander anymore. That he wasn't there for her when she needed him, and that he wasn't there to tell her the hard answers when she needed them. And, the heart of it was that she wasn't sure that she could trust him. More than that, she now had to reconsider everything in their friendship knowing that she probably could not have ever trusted him. He had admitted to lying to her in the past. And, that was even before his transformation. Sure it had probably been the right thing to do, but she would never had thought that Xander would have done it. Had never thought it had been in him to do it. That it had always been in him hurt. The fact that he had been this all along, and she had never figured it out probably hurt most all.

Buffy continued to stare into the mirror at herself. She looked skinnier than she had in the past, something that would have been something she would have been proud of in the past. As it was, she just looked weary. Withdrawn, as if she had left a part of herself somewhere and couldn't remember where.

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"You see him?" Xander asked, as he headed out the front of the Forum with Vi and the others. They walked down the front steps, heading towards the side to the let the crowd pass before they started their journey home. He glanced over at Richard, who was escorting his wife after them.

Richard nodded, moving off to the side of the entrance to the building. "Yeah. I didn't imagine that he would show up. Not after what Thomas had done had become public. His execution threw some shame over his whole family line. I don't imagine that he isn't looking for some amount of retribution if he's willing to make an appearance. Thought he had gone to ground with the rest of the line."

"He going to make a play for me?" Xander asked, wondering why his friend hadn't mentioned the potential complication. "Something public or should I be watching my back when I walk in the bad part of town?"

Richard shrugged. "I don't know him. I recognize his face from what the Ministry has on Thomas' family. It was investigated afterwards, but nothing stuck. I don't have any personal experience in the matter or with them, and do not know how he would come after you. If he even intends to. This came out of nowhere. It's a surprise to me to."

Xander clenched his jaw. He would have preferred it coming from Richard. Somebody he knew was his friend, despite how they may have to use each other on occasion. Richard was a patriot, and he knew where he stood with that. As long as he was an ally to Richard and Sidhe, he was fine. Their friendship would carry them past any particular disagreements, as long as it did nothing to threaten his country. The same occurred on the other side as well; both things that both men were aware of.

The lady Faerie was another matter. Hard to gauge with so little insight into her character. The sexual nature of their few confrontations was obvious in their intention. A method of control. One that usually worked quite well he would think, given her appearance. Nothing necessarily dangerous in that, as long as one didn't take it too seriously. But, given the rather blatant and uncaring ways that she employed to try to influence him, he figured that it wouldn't be that difficult for the Faerie to try more direct and less pleasurable ways of controls if he started down that path. That he had to rely on her help in this matter wasn't something he wanted, but he just hoped that he wouldn't have to give up much. Being a member of the military here had its benefits and would allow him some protection if Dominique decided to try to get too insistent. Still, if determined, the Faerie could probably find ways to make his life difficult if he didn't go far enough for her, even after he went back to Earth.

"Great. Hope he doesn't think it was me," Xander said, feeling Vi's hand close more tightly around his hand. He looked over at his girlfriend, noting the conflicted expression on his face. He saw worry, anger, and some amount of fear. Mixed in different and changing quantities. "Yeah, not too likely."

He looked over at Richard again. "Well, if there's really nothing else, then I'm going to go to my place. Haven't really been there much, so…"

Richard nodded, smiling lightly. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow. It was…enjoyable. We need to talk about what happened, but it can wait until tomorrow. At least nothing too bad happened tonight."

"Yeah, luckily," Xander replied, not feeling very lucky at all.

Lily walked over to him as he let go of Vi's hand to accept her embrace. She leaned in close and whispered into his ear, "You two look good together. Be careful."

Xander ended the hug and looked the Faerie in the eyes. He saw the kindness in her expression and it was obvious how much she had come to care for the young woman at his side. "I will."

"And you," Lily said, turning towards the slayer. She embraced the much younger woman as well. She whispered into her ear too, "you look enchanting tonight. You have a good man here. Never let him go, and make sure that he doesn't do anything too foolish."

Vi smiled briefly, as she hugged the much older woman. "Thank you."

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It had taken Xander some time to figure out exactly how the lights in the house were turned on and off. Some type of energized crystal was used as the source of illuminating technology. They responded to dials set into the walls of the dwelling. It worked about as well as light bulbs, though lasted much much longer according to what he had been told. Much of how the house worked was like a skewed representation of a house from Earth. Most of the same parts of the building had some type of equivalent, but without the reliance on electricity or mundane technology. At least, technology that he was familiar with.

He was rather surprised that he had been given that particular house. Though it was built partly into a cliff that overlooked the city proper, it was significantly larger than an apartment or condo. In his world, it would be considered a bribe. Here, it was considered business as usual. Not that he was complaining. The place was all kinds of swanky.

The human knew basically how everything worked at this point, though he still had a number of incidents where he tried to just flip something on only for it not to work as expected. Or to move to turn off the alarm clock, only to see not a digital clock, but some type of amalgam of brass gears, wood, and glass.

Xander stood in the bedroom, walking forward towards a large window that overlooked the city. It was dark and the various lights on the streets looked like a sea of multi-colored stars that reflected the sky above. He opened the window, taking a deep breath. The air smelled clean, with a touch of spice on the night air. No pollution that he could detect. A large difference from home. If he closed his eye, he could almost pretend that it was peaceful.

The only sounds, the sound of small flying creatures. No cars. No trucks. Just the sounds of life.

"We need to talk," Vi said, from behind her boyfriend. She took a seat on the large bed, drawing her feet up underneath her robe as she sat down.

Xander turned around, noticing that Vi's hair was still wet. He had taken a shower already, letting Vi have some time to explore the house before taking the time to clean herself. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Things from home. It felt right to wear them after all that time in the uniform of another country.

She had taken a bath, declining to talk about what was really troubling her until now. He walked over and sat down next to his girlfriend on the large bed that was in the center of the bedroom adjacent to the window. "What's up?"

"You think he's going to go after you?" Vi asked, taking one of Xander's hands into hers. She placed it into her lap, looking at it.

Xander shrugged, squeezing her hand. "With my luck, he probably will. I figure he might come after me even if I just hide out until I need to leave, so hopefully I can pick up something on how he might do it. See if I can't come up with a better solution. If it's public enough before an official challenge is issued, the Lady can step in and force it to end before it starts, hopefully. And, he couldn't break that, no matter how much he may or may not want revenge. Especially since he has no real proof at this point."

"And you think that woman can help?" Vi asked, her voice strangely tight. It was strange for her. To feel as she did. As if she would lose him to some other women. Still, the way that she had seen the odd green-haired woman interact with her boyfriend rankled her. Richard had had to calm her down and make sure that she didn't try to do anything that she really wouldn't have regretted.

"Maybe," Xander replied carefully, using his other hand to tilt her head up to look at him. He didn't like the tone her voice had taken. Like she was worried about something that she really didn't have to be. "As long as I stick to what I can offer, she'll do what she can as long as it doesn't put her or her people in to too much danger."

"And, what did she offer in return?" Vi asked, maintaining the same tone.

Xander furrowed his brow, squeezing his girlfriend's hand. "You can guess. But, nothing I wanted."

"And that's it?" Vi asked, cautiously.

Xander looked her in the eyes. He sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted. But, I'm here with you. You're the one that I want to be with. You know that."

"I know." Vi smiled briefly at him. "I know…it's just that…I mean…have you and Buffy ever…?"

"Violet? What are you…," Xander said, surprised at the direction she was going in. "No, I mean, when I was in high school I had a crush on her, but that was it. She was interested in other people and I moved on. That's just the way that it goes. Where's this coming from? If you think that…we…"

"It's just that these Faerie," Vi broke in, striking at the heart of the matter. "They're all so…"

"Hey, I have what I want," Xander said, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand. "And, really there's no comparison. Besides, you are much better looking than any of the other women that were there."

He smiled at her encouragingly. "You know how I feel about you. Maybe, maybe I don't say it as much as I should, but I do love you."

"I know," the slayer replied, happy. "Sometimes I just like to reminded, you know?"

"Yeah, and I'm with the woman I want. And, nothing's going to change that. You understand?" Xander reached up again and stroked a cheek, noticing that Vi leaned in to his touch.

"Thanks." Vi abruptly stood up and took a step back, smiling down at him strangely. "And, you can start showing it too."

"What are you…?" Xander asked confusedly, turning to face her. He looked up at her as she took a step back from the bed.

Vi took a breath and unknotted the cloth belt on her bathrobe. She slipped the soft robe off of her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Beneath it, she was wearing something that she had picked out with Lily when they had gone shopping for a dress. It had been something that she had bought on a whim on the Faerie's suggestion, but was glad that she did once she saw Xander's expression.

The sheer negligee-esque garment made from black silk and lace showed of what she had. Admittedly, she didn't think it was much, but from the way that Xander looked at her, she felt like the sexiest woman in the dimension.

"When did you…?" Xander tried to get out, still staring up at the woman in front of him.

Vi smiled seductively at the man, walking closer to the bed and kneeling on it to straddle his lap. "Just a little while ago. Like it?"

"Oh yeah," Xander replied, nodding. His lips curled in a crooked smile. His eyes raked across her body, taking in the sight. Her pale skin was offset by the black lingerie, and it showed her legs to good effect. It even felt good as it traveled across the skin of his arms.

She leaned in closer and caught his lips in a kiss, feeling his hands grasp her waist and move up to her back. It felt nice, and she moved in closer.

"Do you see how I feel about you know?" Xander said, after they had broke for air. He pecked her again on the freckle that she had below her lower lip. He knew that she liked it when he did that. "I do love you."

Vi nodded, her cheeks flushed. "I know."

"Good," Xander said, kissing her again.

The redheaded slayer broke off after a moment to look at him carefully. At the moment the slayers were probably sleeping, having to get ready to make the trip up North. That was their duty. She had hers back on Earth. Protecting the world and making sure that Xander was okay. Richard and Lily were probably back at their home, enjoying themselves. The Faerie women might even be plotting more ways to get their claws into her boyfriend. And that Faerie man might be plotting ways to get a dagger in.

But, that was work, and the future. This is was just between them.

"Now, whose are you?" Vi said seductively.

Xander licked his lips, looking up at her as she wiggled delightfully in his lap. Her greens eyes were open wide and luminous. "Yours."

Vi leaned in again, her lips brushing his lightly.

"Exactly."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Chapter 15: Going Home**

Arabian Peninsula, 1991

Specialist Alexander Harrison turned and knelt down behind a pile of rocks. He scanned the mountainous terrain in front of him quickly as the rest of his group took their own positions. His squad and him had exfiltrated after their mission was complete. It had taken hours to get out of the area, and it was already daylight. They hadn't been detected on their way out of the target area, but with the sheer amount of caves, gorges, and rabbit holes to hide in, they couldn't be sure that they hadn't been picked up on the way to the extraction point.

Even if they hadn't it didn't mean that they couldn't be found. They'd had to pull back to an area where the cover wasn't thick enough to totally cover up their appearance. An unfortunate consequence of their method of extraction.

"Five minutes," the army Ranger heard over his earpiece. A few minutes till the chopper would arrive and fly them out of the area. Out and back home. Or rather the forward operating base that was home for the moment.

Continuing to scan the area he was covering, he made sure that his rifle was ready to go. It wasn't his first mission out, but he still had the sense of exhilaration that he always got during deployment into the field. He pushed it down though. Adrenaline could make his hands shake, and he needed them stable. Just like his head. He couldn't afford to get so wired as to miss something. That would just put them all in danger.

They had easily bagged their man and procured what they were sent in to get. A number of SCUD positions could now be determined with the data copies that they had acquired. And the target they had been assigned to take out wouldn't be doing any commanding anymore. By taking the target out at night, and without firing a shot, they were able to gain some distance before any search would be conducted. No doubt the body would have been found by now. But with a little luck, they wouldn't be stumbled upon before they could reach the helicopter.

The army Ranger could hear the growing sound of helicopter blades when he saw movement ahead of him. The rocky outcroppings in the distance didn't display much in terms of what life might be there. Some rocks had fallen from a small cliff halfway up the mountainside. He put his eye to the ACOG sight on his M16 and checked the area around where the rocks had fallen.

It could have been anything. The wind knocking some loose stones off the side of the rock face. Or some small animal making its way about, looking for a meal. Or somebody loading an RPG.

A flash of tan cloth caught his attention, though it was hard to distinguish against the rock. It likely signified that someone was up there, but without clear identification, he couldn't risk firing a shot. Traders and nomads were not uncommon in the area either. Children also were known to play around the rocks. Besides, with the open ground that they were on, a gunshot would be heard for a quite a distance around them. The helicopter would too, but that was a necessary evil.

"Movement, one o'clock high. Near the small tree," Harrison said into his com set. He kept an eye on the area ahead of him, not worrying about the other men on his team spread out on his flanks.

The five man squad that he was a part of had been together long enough develop that sense of awareness. The knowing of where each member was and how they were doing their part. A well-oiled machine where every soldier did what he did in conjunction with the others.

Gunfire erupted from the rocks, raining down on the American soldiers that had taken cover on the open ground a few hundred yards away from the foot of the mountains. It looked like they had been found out.

"Shit," Xander muttered, as he brought his rifle up. He aimed down it and placed a series of bursts into the men that he could see firing automatic rifles at them. He managed to get three of them before a number of the rest started to send directed return fire at him. He took cover behind some rocks, hearing bullets ricochet off of them.

He returned fire as best as he could, hearing other rifles open up next to him. The distinctive shot of three round bursts and single shots rang out as the men on the mountain were forced to find cover. Their advance would be stopped for the moment. But, the Ranger team only had a limited supply of ammunition and would be unable to hold out forever.

Specialist Harrison didn't bother to turn around as he heard the chopper's impeding arrival. He was just glad that it didn't appear that the forces on the other side didn't have RPG's.

"Harrison, Coates," Staff Sergeant Delgado shouted above the din. "We need cover for the chopper's approach. Smoke grenades now."

Xander lowered his rifle, letting it fall to his side on its sling. He pulled a couple of smoke grenades from his web gear and pulled the pin on the first. He tossed one forward and to the right. He did the same for the other and tossed it to the left. Coates did the same on the other side.

The grenades ignited, sending clouds of gray smoke into the air. It prevented directed return fire on their own part, but luckily they didn't have to kill all of the enemy. Just make them keep their heads down until they could get away.

The Black Hawk descended quickly, landing on the dried grass and dirt that made up much of the countryside.

"Our ride's here," Delgado shouted out. "Let's get out of here."

They started to fall back to the helicopter, moving towards it in a staggered formation so that there was covering fire for each duo that moved towards the chopper.

Specialist Harrison continued to fire his rifle, as did Specialist Coates. They couldn't see what they were firing at anymore, but they kept up the covering fire to allow the others to start for the Black Hawk.

"Go," Xander heard in his earpiece. He also heard gunfire from behind him as his fellow Rangers took up positions to cover Coates and his movements.

Xander turned and quickly moved towards the helicopter. Coates took a position at his side, matching his pace. With the sound of the gunfire behind him and in front, as well as the thrumming of the chopper's blades, he couldn't make out the specific gunshot that sent him to the ground.

He grunted as he hit the ground, his back painful like a red-hot poker had just been jabbed in there. It had gone through the ballistic plate of his body armor. Whether it was an armor piercing round or a lucky shot didn't much matter. Xander managed to turn over, which only sent another lance of pain into him. He coughed once, feeling blood coming out of his mouth and dribbling down his chin. He was having trouble breathing, and knew that a lung had properly been punctured.

"Xander is down," he heard from somewhere to the right. He couldn't make out whose voice it was though. Everything seemed to be coming from a distance and through a layer of fog. He felt himself being dragged away, a constant pain in his back.

Specialist Harrison found that he didn't have the energy to turn his head. He just continued to stare up, the sunlight bathing everything in an odd golden light. His body felt distant, as if he was floating now. He could barely feel the weight of his gear and helmet.

The sounds grew fainter, even as they grew more frequent. The sunlight was getting dimmer. In a second it would be gone. As it was, the edges of his vision were growing blurred and dark

As he continued to move, things got fainter and fainter. He knew that he hadn't closed his eyes, but he couldn't see anything anymore but a tiny pinprick of light in the middle of his vision. Nor hear anything but small whispers at the edge of hearing for that matter.

Another few seconds that felt like an eternity and then there was nothing all around. He couldn't feel his body anymore, nor hear, nor see. The only thing that Xander could feel as he lay dying was the encroaching darkness. Soon it had covered everything and he didn't know whether he was awake or not.

And then he felt nothing. It was like going to a dreamless sleep and not waking up.

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Xander awoke in an instant, mind instantly aware of his surroundings. He didn't get that dream often anymore, but it was the first time that it was so vivid. He could actually remember the specific details about the event he had dreamed about; namely names and places. It had always been rather indistinct before. At least, everything but the last moments.

After he had arrived in Africa, he had gotten them rather frequently. They'd died down, and he had assumed that they were something brought up by stress and the environment. But, they'd come back without rhyme or reason at various times in the last couple of years. Even during times that he felt the closest to peace that he ever had been.

By his count, he'd died one hundred and twelve times.

Xander had never told anyone about them. Not even Vi, or his therapist for that matter. Both of the women would want to try to get involved and figure them out and what it meant in conjunction to his mental state. Neither of them would be particularly happy that he had not told them about the dreams either.

He had no idea exactly why they occurred. Or how for that matter. Logistically speaking, it didn't really make sense to his relatively untrained mind. Somehow the clothing, or some of it, that he had gotten from that army surplus store that Halloween so long ago must have been owned at one time by the Ranger whose life he relived over and over again. That it encompassed the end of the Ranger's life and not just to the point when the clothes had been abandoned was probably some type of metaphysical link of identity to the whole of that man's life. If he was willing to ask, Cindy could probably provide an explanation. Of course, he wasn't.

Whatever the reason, Xander just hoped that Specialist Alexander "Xander" Harrison was proud of what he was doing with the unknowing gift that the Army Ranger had left for that future Xander. Probably not for most of it though.

He took a breath, looking up at the high ceiling in his room. He didn't attempt to move however, noting the warm body that was partially covering his. Vi was still asleep and holding onto him quite tightly, her naked body smooth against his own.

Daylight shone through the window that had been left uncovered, but closed, from the night before. Most windows in the realm were reflective and were opaque from outside view. With the amount of flying sentient beings, not to mention how small they could be, clear windows even from high up weren't private.

The clock on a small wooden shelf next to the bed told him that it was still relatively early. He looked down at the woman next to him, her face partially obscured by her red hair. He smiled privately as he watched her sleep. He gave it a few moments.

Slipping out as smoothly and silently as he could, Xander left the bed and scoured the room for clean clothes. The stuff that he had been wearing the night before would suffice for now. He'd have to pick something more appropriate for when he ventured out however.

As he got dressed, Xander mentally reviewed the events of the night before. All and all, it was fairly successful. His face and name were out there, and he had noticed enough people that served on the Council had observed the magically imbued weapon that he had kept strapped to his side for most of the evening. He had had to remove it for the dances, but he hadn't been worried. Aside from the impropriety of stealing something at a royal reception, it couldn't be held by anyone but its rightful bearer. Like Mjolnir, but with looser entrance criteria.

"Where are you going?" Vi said, as she sat up in bed. She brought the silk bed sheet up to cover herself, though it was rather unnecessary. Xander had obviously seen everything that it was covering. With rather great enthusiasm given what had happened the night before.

"Breakfast," Xander replied, turning around. He bent down and picked up another boot and shoved it onto his foot. He laced it up as he looked up at her. "Not much stuff in the magic icebox refrigerator thingie. I thought I'd pick some stuff up. You can stay in bed if you want to."

"Oh, is that where you want me?" Vi said, a wry smile on her face. She got out of bed, still holding the sheet to her. It trailed after her as she walked over to Xander. "Naked, barefoot, and what was it? Pregnant?"

"Well, maybe in a couple of years," Xander said teasingly. "I'm not quite tired of you yet woman."

Vi slapped him lightly on the chest and leaned up to kiss him quickly. "Now go get me my breakfast."

Xander continued to smile. "Of course. I shall go and slay some magnificent beast to break your fast. Or donuts. Yeah donuts, is easier."

He started to walk away as he heard her continue to speak.

"About last night," Vi said to his back. "That Faerie that might come after you…"

Xander turned his head to speak over his shoulder. "We'll talk about that when I get back."

A ringing sound broke into their conversation. It was the doorbell to the house ringing with a light and melodic sound. It sounded vaguely ominous for some reason. Hardly something he would have picked had he had the choice.

Xander turned in the general direction of the front door though it was more just out to the hall, frowning. Richard wasn't supposed to come by until later, and nobody that knew where he lived would come calling now. Especially after such a late night. Bad manners and all that.

He walked over to the door, having to go into the hall, down the circular staircase into the downstairs living area and then to the small reception area. He looked through the ornate glass rose that was set into the top portion of the dark wood door that served as the entrance to the home.

Xander didn't recognize the particular Faerie, but noted that he was impeccably dressed in a dark colored modern looking tunic. There were some Arabic undertones to the dress, though it was likely a coincidence. A serious expression adorned the Faerie's face, with close-cropped blonde hair showing the length and tips of his pointed ears.

Xander tensed slightly inside as he opened the door, but made sure to keep from revealing that on the outside. He would have preferred to be holding a weapon, but that wouldn't do if the Faerie wasn't hostile. At best, he only hoped he'd be able to dodge in time. "Is there something I can do for you?"

The Faerie looked over at the human, the expression on his face never wavering. "My master bid me come to bring you this."

Xander continued to watch the Faerie, schooling his face to match the Faerie's bland expression. "And that would be?"

"Raphael," the Faerie said, holding his right hand up to show that he had nothing to hide. He slowly reached into his tunic and pulled out a rolled scroll. He held it up in his hand, waiting for the human to take it.

Xander looked down at the scroll, not making a move to take it. He looked up again at the Faerie, making sure to meet his gaze. "How did you find me?"

"Apologies," the Faerie servant said, not looking at all apologetic. "I have not been instructed to reveal that information. Only to deliver this."

The Faerie moved his hand forward, closer to the human.

Xander picked up the scroll, feeling its rough surface on his palm and fingers. It had been sealed with red wax, likely to ensure that nobody else read it. He didn't recognize the seal, not that he would have been likely to. He only recognized a few from official communications. "Do you have a name?"

"Yes," the Faerie responded curtly, not supplying any more information than had been asked.

Xander didn't bother to react to that. It was clear that was all that the Faerie would give up on that particular subject. "Is there anything else you can tell me?"

"Only that it is a formal declaration," the Faerie responded, expression never changing. "It is time-stamped and therefore takes precedence over any other bargaining you may want to try to enter into. Good day."

With his mission accomplished, the Faerie turned on his heel and walked away. He had no idea what was actually written on the scroll, though he had suspicions. Ones he would not entertain for long. His purpose was to serve. Not to question, and so he would not. He didn't even wonder about the identity of the human that he had called upon. It likely wouldn't matter for very long at any rate.

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"So what are you going to tell them?" Simone asked quietly. She glanced over at the slayer that was seated at the far end of the cabin. With the drone of the airplane's engines audible, it was unlikely that Rona could hear her question to Faith. Still, better safe than sorry given Rona's increasingly acute and annoying senses.

Faith followed Simone's gaze, and then turned back to face the slayer seated next to her. "She did her part, and did it well."

"And the other part?" the punk looking slayer pressed. "Robin's not going to like it if you keep it from him."

"Wood's not going to find out from me," Faith replied, frowning. She looked her fellow slayer in the eyes. "And he's not going to find out from you."

"Hey, she's my team leader," Simone said, slightly defensively. She held her hands up in mock surrender. "I don't want to have her pulled either. But…"

"But, if she becomes a problem," Faith continued to speak. "Then I'll pull her off the team. Move up Jenna to lead. But, I'm not cutting her loose until we have to."

"She needs help," Jenna said, having come down the aisle. She took a seat across the aisle from where the other two slayers were sitting. It was still an early flight, and so wasn't too crowded. "Either way, it's getting worse. And she can't handle it on her own."

"I know," Faith admitted. "I know."

"Buffy's going to use this, you know." Jenna continued on. "Try to spin it as you not being fit to lead. Keeping her there, if something happens…"

Faith nodded, looking again at the hybrid slayer. She looked withdrawn and tense. The noise and close quarters probably weren't any help. If she was still coming down from the combat situation, then that was a big problem. It had been quite a few hours since they had left the bar, and even she was calm.

The head slayer looked at the two members of the Vindicators. "As far as I'm concerned, she did well on this mission. She supported us as she should have, and nothing went wrong. Especially when it came to her role. That's what my report is going to say. Got it?"

The slayer continued to look at the two; the challenge didn't need to be verbalized. She continued to look at them until they had nodded in agreement. With some begrudgment she noticed.

Faith nodded grimly. "I will have a talk with her and Robin though. And Xander. Even if Buffy bitches about it. We need to come up with a fix for this situation fast. Can't keep doing it like this forever."

Jenna and Simone just nodded.

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"They're slow," Chad said, watching as the group of men finished their run through. He rubbed his eyes. "And they're not cohesive. They get sent in as a team, and they're going to get slaughtered if the opposition is halfway decent."

"I know," Lyle said, looking away from the course.

They were standing on an elevated metal platform set against the side of the warehouse they were using as a training course. Masking tape had been used to make a mockup of part of the building that they were to penetrate. Sensors and laser traps had been mounted on stands to simulate the expected security system. Systems that would have to bypassed in real life by the designated team.

A team that had all the makings of not being able to do the job.

He had controlled the various traps with a laptop tracking the speed that they had been deactivated or circumvented. It was better than before, but was still nowhere near quick enough for him. Without any stroking of ego, he knew that he could have done a much better job himself.

"What's the time?" Lyle asked, glancing towards Roger. He noted that Shawn, the team leader was looking up at him. Half in challenge and half in question. He ignored it.

"Five minutes," Roger said, shrugging. "Three seconds. On this section."

Lyle grit his teeth and shook his head. The strike team was already slow, and they hadn't even bothered to try a full run-through yet. Not that they had the space. Wyndham-Pryce was supposed to be working on acquiring space for that part of the training regime. Of course, at the rate that Shawn and his men were going, it wasn't needed just yet. Nor would it be fore quite some time, if ever. "Damn, they really aren't going to be able to do this."

"What are you going do?" Chadwick asked, resetting the digital video recorder that he had been using. "Tell him that he'll need to figure something else out? Have us go ourselves?"

"Not yet," Lyle said, moving toward the edge of the metal platform. He spoke loudly at the team gathered below, "reset. Do it again. You don't get to leave today until you can get it under four."

He tolerated the grumbling that drifted up to his position for a moment. He would have to establish discipline if it was ever going to work, but he could only push so hard at the present moment. Some of the people in that group, especially the two last members of the team, Locke and Dunne, still had their egos intact.

"That's enough!" Lyle shouted down towards the group. "You guys don't want to be here, you can quit. Pack your shit and leave. If you actually plan on doing this, then reset, and do it again. Now!"

Shawn looked over at his men. He was expected to be in charge, but he could barely keep them in line. They followed his orders for the most part, but there was hesitation that even he knew was a liability. "You heard the man, let's do it again."

"They've been at this for hours," Chad said, taking a step closer to his boss. He kept his voice low so that they wouldn't be overheard.

"And, they'll keep going till they get better." Lyle said. He looked over at his second in command. "It'll buy us some time. You get anything on those blueprints?"

Chadwick shrugged. "We're getting there. But, no identifying marks mean that we need to identify the design itself and match that to a specific building. That'll take some time. Plus side, we know it's old. And European, so that narrows it down a bit."

"Yeah," Roger said, coming up as well. "And with the breakdown on what we know those walls to be made of, we might be able to track it down to a specific country. From there, it'll get easier."

Chad nodded in agreement. "At the very least, we know one thing."

"What's that?" Lyle asked, looking forward again. He watched as Shawn and the others reset the sensors and moved towards the starting line.

Chad looked forward as well. "We know it'll be a place where a bunch of white boys will fit in."

Lyle continued to watch the men below. They could barely run the course as it was. Add in real adversaries, and it was a whole new game. "Got to wonder exactly why these boys were picked?"

"I've been running the names," Chad said. "I'm thinking family and business connections. None of them have any real experience. No military expertise, not even a cop for that matter. The Council's been at this a very long time. They're connected to the top."

"Not high enough," Lyle replied. "If this is the best they could get. Got to wonder why things changed and they called us in."

"They ended up fighting someone they couldn't handle?" Chad suggested. He was still amazed that the Council had endured as long as it had. And that the government had given such a free hand to them. Probably had something to do with the ties that the Council had with people in high places in the Royalty and the government. Never a good thing in his opinion. All sorts of potential for corruption.

Roger thought for a moment, watching as the team below fumbled for a moment trying to get everything back into place. "Should have happened a long time ago if that's what they were using."

Lyle nodded. "Maybe they finally ran into some competition."

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Xander cracked the seal and read through the scroll quickly. It was in English, a fact that wasn't all too surprising. It was a formal challenge as he suspected. The exact intricacies of it would have to be discussed, but it seemed solid. The Faerie wouldn't have said so if it hadn't been. It would undoubtedly be checked out and verified and thus there was no reason to lie.

It was spelled out pretty clearly. The usual demands and citations of rules and regulations. It was times like this that he knew that he was truly in an alien dimension. Sure, the Faerie looked almost human, pointed ears not withstanding. And sure, the various creatures and beings that inhabited Sidhe weren't all that more unusual than the demons and other supernatural entities on Earth. Still, when a supposedly enlightened society, one that claimed superiority to his own, still allowed duels to the death, it just proved that priorities and cultural beliefs differed drastically and couldn't always just be excused.

He didn't bother to turn around when he heard Vi walk up to him. "Faster than I thought."

"What is it?" Vi asked as she slipped a shirt over her head. It was one of Xander's and reached to her upper thigh. She looked at what he was reading while she ran a hand through her sleep tousled hair. From his expression, she knew that it couldn't be something pleasant.

Xander turned around. He held out the scroll for her to take and read. "A challenge. Raphael is making a move against me, and looking to take me out. Quick, so I wouldn't have time to maneuver. I'm guessing to prevent the Lady from making a move to stop him. Must know more than he let on. We need to talk to Richard."

He walked back to the stairs, heading towards the bedroom.

Vi watched him go, a worried expression on her face. The scroll went unread in her hand.

She whispered to herself, "I guess we're skipping breakfast."

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"I wish Xander was here," Cindy said, swinging around slowly in her chair. She looked up at the ceiling, not really looking at anything at all.

"Me too," Abby said, watching the witch spin around. She placed her cup of coffee on Cindy's desk.

It had been rather odd working without Xander there. Admittedly, he wasn't one for micro-management, but he was a good leader, and his presence was missed. Still, if he couldn't be there now, there had to be a good reason. Not only would the director not have let him go, but there was no way in hell that Xander would have left if there wasn't a good reason.

That he hadn't let the team in on it irked her. But, coming from where she had, and given the nature of their work, she knew that it was nothing personal. Top secret was top secret. And clearance levels meant something.

Information hadn't been easy to come by. On either front. All that they could find out was that something secure had been built with local supplies for Garza. Nothing firm about structure or security measures. As for possible supernatural defenses, that was a wash too. Nothing stood out about that particular Cleveland forest. It had its share of potential dangers; mainly creatures whose habitat fell within that area. But, nothing to be particularly prepared for.

"How do you think they're doing?" the slayer asked. She smirked briefly at the witch, who stopped spinning to look at her. "You think he got himself in trouble yet?"

Cindy smiled back at her. "Probably. But, Vi'll keep him in line."

The slayer laughed aloud. "Yeah."

Abigail looked at her friend for a moment, an odd and thoughtful expression on her face. "So, you ever sleep with him?"

Cindy's mouth stayed open, as what she was planning on saying didn't make it out of her mouth. It took her a moment to find out what she wanted to say now. "Did I ever what?"

"You know," the slayer said, a wry smile on her face. "Did you?"

Cindy laughed. She probably would have been offended if it had been anybody else. After all, they did work in the same office. But, it was different with the other girl of the team. Sometimes the testosterone could be overwhelming. "Did Vi ask you to ask me that?"

Abby shrugged, not answering. She knew that the other slayer had her moments of self-doubt. Worries about if she was doing anything wrong in her relationship with Xander. With her inexperience, it wasn't that surprising. It was a good thing that Xander felt how he did towards the young slayer. Quite a few men would have used the situation to try to take advantage of the Watcher raised slayer. Not that it would have worked for very long, but still, Vi would have been hurt. Not the case with Xander though. "Just wondering."

"No," Cindy said, after a second's thought. She knew that the slayers tended to stick together. Abby was probably doing her part to protect her sister slayer. "I mean, it's occurred to me before, but no. We had our chance back before we started doing this officially. And well, it's pretty damned unlikely now. Why?"

"Just wondering." The slayer shrugged again. "There have been some rumors."

Cindy just looked at the other woman. "And, you believe them?"

"No," Abby said, shaking her head. "But, you were one of the first of us that he picked up. And, that was even before he got together with Vi."

"I would have figured you'd know better than to listen to gossip," Cindy said, playfully reproachful. "I mean, what with all the gossip and rumors flying around the slayers. Girls will talk."

Abigail smiled. "To listen to a number of them figure it, Xander's been fucking me too. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on their parts, if he's got eyes for more than just one particular slayer. Of course, they're ignoring the whole into girls thing."

"Yeah." Cindy nodded. "Well, to put your curiosity to rest, I have not been sleeping with him. Nor have I ever."

"Think it was dangerous?" Abigail asked, after a moment.

The witch took a second to figure out what the slayer was referring to. Then she shrugged. "Not enough for him not to bring her along. Still, a couple hundred slayers. It'll be dangerous for someone."

"Hopefully the right someones," the slayer put in.

Cindy nodded. "Yeah."

They looked at each other in silence for a second.

"You wanted to see me about something else?" the witch asked, after the moment had past.

"Satsu's been telling me. There's…issues…in the Council," Abby replied. "I think enough time's past that they're starting to reexamine what happened. And starting to think that they're strong enough to handle everything. Rewriting history or something like that."

"Xander's burned some bridges," Cindy acknowledged. "But, with our own slayers, Giles can only push it so far. Especially with Robin and Faith there to watch over him. This only gossip? Or is there something hard?"

"Maybe only gossip for now, but I get the feeling that there's more. At least, that's the impression I'm getting. I get the feeling that they aren't necessarily saying everything they could. But, from what I hear, Buffy's not exactly a slouch at getting people to do what she wants. So, she's having an effect. And so, her influence is growing," the slayer said, somewhat worriedly. "There's something else though. Of the immediate."

"And that is?" the witch questioned.

"Rona. She's getting worse. According to Satsu, Faith is pretty worried." The slayer explained. She took a second to take a sip of coffee. "She's wondering if maybe we could help. You know anybody?"

"Not particularly," Cindy said, after a moment's thought. "I mean, nobody that would be willing to help out the Council, even a reformed one. Sides, I don't think just a werewolf is going to do it in her particular case."

"Vi's going to be concerned. I don't think that she's heard everything yet. I just only heard the major details about their last operation, and even that was rather sketchy. I highly doubt that the official report is going to say everything that went on." Abigail stretched out in her chair. "She's going to want to get involved. Rona and her were pretty tight from what I heard. 'Sides, she's doing the whole psychology thing now. Right up her alley. I don't know how that'll work though. Xander's already stretched as it is."

"You think he knows somebody?" Cindy asked.

Abby settled down again, and looked at the witch. "Probably. He seems to know quite a lot of people."

"Most of whom aren't particularly personable though." Cindy grinned.

Abby laughed in agreement. "Yeah, well, you never know."

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"Here," Alex said, placing the cardboard cup holder onto the coffee table. She picked up one of the paper cups from the holder, taking a sip.

Ray idly glanced over as he took a cup. He took a drink, pleasantly surprised that it was regular coffee. She was learning.

"So where are we at?" Alex said, taking a seat on the couch next to the older reporter. The coffee table in front of them was filled with papers. Some written reports and notes written on scraps. It was everything they had on the story that they were still working on.

They'd already blown through the majority of it.

"Nowhere," the reporter said, taking a look at his partner. "We already ran through most of what we could confirm. And, there's been nothing major that suggests his presence. No rumors of his presence in any of the major hotspots right now."

"None of your contacts have anything?" Alex asked.

Ray shook his head, and then shrugged. "Okay. There was something a guy I know had. PI works with cops sometimes. He gets them to tell him stuff that might help for his cases. Well, tries to get them to tell him stuff, but anyway. There was a rumor around one of the precincts that says our boy was hanging out with the Russian mob. Doing some work for them."

"And that's our story?" Alex said, rather skeptically. "One-Eyed Jack hits New York and is working for the Russian Mob? Doesn't really seem to tie with what we've learned about him so far. That and I doubt that we're going to get something like that published if it names names of people that are right here in New York."

Ray shrugged again. "It's something. Besides, we're running out of things to print, and Mira's not going to let us follow this forever. Keep it vague and we can probably get something published. We only get paid if we keep producing. We need to keep running this shit until we hit the mother lode."

"And that would be when?" the younger reporter asked.

Ray smirked. "Itching for that promotion? Soon enough hopefully."

Alex smiled at him. "You got something, don't you? What is it?"

The older reporter just continued to smirk. "Demons board starting to light up. Something big's going down. Word is, there's something in Cleveland worth checking out. Some sort of Army of Light thing going on. Underground kind of, but apparently word's still leaking out. Our next target."

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"This is bad," Richard said, reading through the scroll. He looked up when he had finished, noticing the tense expressions on both of the humans' faces. He ignored the other Faerie in the room, though he noticed that the slayer's glances towards the other Faerie weren't particularly friendly.

"Ya think?" Xander remarked lightly. "Any way out?"

Richard shook his head. "No. Unfortunately, his challenge isn't based on anything he needs to prove. Some type of ancient slight from one of your ancestors. Nothing to do with Thomas. Onus is on you to prove that it didn't happen since he gives some specifics, but you don't have enough time to do that. And you'd have to spill too much about yourself and your actions to prove that it wasn't your family."

"Planned pretty well then, didn't he," Vi put in, frowning. She was sitting on the couch in what was their living room, but she didn't feel particularly relaxed. "So what type of fight is this?'

"Formal duel," Dominique spook up, looking at the slayer and smiling. "It's blood vengeance. No exceptions. No seconds. On the plus side, he'll get his choice of weapons. And with Xander's lack of magic, Raphael will be forced to use relatively mundane weapons also. Also, he would be forbidden from using any personal magic as well."

Vi just glared at the Faerie woman, but said nothing. It was Xander after all, and she couldn't let her personal feelings interfere with the trouble that Xander was in as well as their attempts to get him out of it. At least, the Faerie was sitting in one of the single chairs in the room. Not where she had originally wanted to sit.

Dominique turned to face Xander. "So he can't force you to use something you…well…that you can't."

"Goodie," Xander said, looking towards the Faerie. He could tell that Vi didn't like the other woman, for ways that would actually be rather ego-stroking if his life wasn't actually involved. "Anything else you can tell me? Something useful and related to me not getting killed?"

The Faerie woman just shrugged. "Not about the duel. We don't see much of those where I come from."

"Right. Well, you got to play this one straight. You cheat and win, Court's going to come down on you hard," Richard replied, looking from the duchess to Xander. "Even the Lady can't bail you out if that happens."

"Can't we just leave? Earth is pretty much closed off to here now. " Vi suggested, even though she knew that it wasn't a real possibility.

Richard shook his head. "No, it is blood vengeance. He's got free reign to track him down wherever he goes. More, he'd be open to taking out anybody in his family, anybody that he considers family. Right now, it's limited to Xander only."

"Keeps getting better doesn't it," Xander said. He looked around the room, hardly seemed worth it now that his neck was on the line. While he had confidence in his fighting abilities, an actual duel was something different. Especially against someone with a longer life and therefore much more experience. Raphael would never have challenged him without reasonable assurance that he would win.

"He's thought this out quite well, I have to say," Dominique said, rather impressed by how quickly Raphael was able to put things together. "I would have to say he's been planning this for quite a while. Must have been a surprise when he found out that you would be here. Allow him to carry his plans to fruition that much quicker."

"Okay. Tell me what you can about him. Combat ability. Any special skills he could use against me not relating to magic?" Xander asked, looking back and forth at both of the Faeries.

Richard shrugged, looking towards the Faerie woman.

"He is known for his quickness with a blade. Favors a short blade with a slashing cut. He is strong, but his speed is exceptional. That's what he is known for," Dominique stated. She eyed Xander up and down, paying attention to his arms. "Is that something you can counter?"

Xander thought about the weapon that was currently upstairs in the bedroom. It had its own powers, and could imbue its bearer with what was necessary to wield it. Less so now, but even in its current state it would be a great advantage. Of course, every use had its price and if he was to get too involved, it would cause just that many more problems. More so it would also raise questions about who he really was and what the weapon really meant. He wasn't quite ready to reveal that secret to anybody yet. Not until he had to.

"Yes," he said, looking at the Faerie.

Richard wanted to ask what he really meant, but didn't think it wise with the present company. He wasn't sure that he would get a clear answer even if they were alone though.

"Okay," Dominique continued. "He's been in a number of tournaments, some of which have taken place in my realm. So I have seen him fight. Not quite the same thing, but there are some things that I believe you will find helpful."

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"And the mission went as planned?" Giles asked, looking at the slayer seated across from him in the conference room.

"Yes," Faith replied. "We went through the leads that Xander provided until we could locate the Frenchman. Once we did that, we were able to take out the target. They didn't get a good look at us, and we made sure that anybody that might have wouldn't be able to provide any information on us. The mind mojo that Linda gave us worked as planned. Good thing that."

"Right," Dawn said, glancing towards Willow. She wasn't sure why the witch had decided to come to the debriefing, but it likely had something to do with how things were changing in the Council. As well as how Faith had taken such a predominant role in it. "And, all of the slayers performed adequately?"

The slayer nodded without the hesitation that she truly felt. "It's in my report. They performed well."

Dawn tried to gauge the response. She couldn't tell if Faith was holding something back or not. She didn't have the rapport with the brunette slayer where she would be able to tell, nor the insight into people that Xander did.

"Is that everything?" Faith asked, looking towards the watcher.

Giles shook his head. "There's one other thing we need to discuss."

"Let me guess," Faith said, smirking. "Buffy."

Giles pursed his lips. "Indeed. She has had problems with you and your position here. We need to address that."

"Hey, I've been keeping out of her way," Faith said, crossing her arms over her chest. "If she's got a problem, she should figure it out herself. I got other things to do than worrying about what the prom queen thinks."

Dawn felt as if she had to say something to defend her sister, but found that she couldn't find a reason to do so.

"I want you to try working with her," Giles said, ignoring the slight to his former sole charge. "Get her involved. I think that once she's better integrated, she'll be able to fit in more cohesively with the other slayers. She has slayers that she is working with, but they appear to be distancing themselves from the main group as well. I do not believe that fracturing our forces in such a manner is beneficial to our mission."

"That's her choice. Not mine," Faith replied. "Look, I'm all for keeping the slayers in one big happy family, but she isn't making it any easier. And, her training methods and beliefs aren't going to help us in the long run. I don't think she's got what it takes to actually lead them like she has been. You may have given her some space 'cause she was your slayer and all, but I think it's time you pulled the plug on that little experiment. Ain't worked out so well for you yet, has it?"

"Be that as it may," Giles said, allowing himself to demonstrate only some latitude towards the slayer. He was used to Faith's attitude by now, but he had his limits. "I can't have my slayers constantly butting heads. I need you to work with her. And that's not a request."

Faith sighed. She respected the watcher, she really did. On reflection, she knew how caught up Giles had been as Buffy's watcher and that Wesley had been out of his depth as a new field watcher. Knowing Buffy as she did now, she was surprised that Giles had spent as much time as he had on her, knowing how demanding the blonde could be.

"I'll try," the slayer said at last. "But, I swear, if she starts in on me about how she was the only slayer for so long and stayed alive and therefore knows what's best, I'll pop her one in the face. I swear, you better make sure she doesn't start up with that shit."

Giles ignored the language. "Very well. I've talked to her about not letting her personal feelings interfere with what we do. If need be, I'll talk to her again. But, you have to try as well. Do you understand?"

Faith nodded. "Yes, sir."

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Xander worked his neck back and forth, trying to stay loose. He was nervous, but made sure that it didn't affect his movements. The armor that he was wearing was light enough to allow him to move quickly if he had to, and would protect him against glancing blows. Of course, against Faerie made weapons, it wouldn't help against a hit in the right place, or if there was enough force applied.

Again, he mentally kicked himself for not practicing longer with it. But, there really hadn't been time. At least it had been enspelled to be light and not restrict movement. Of course, there were always intricacies involved that could only be figured out with time and practice. Neither of which he had had in spades.

It had been a hard day and night. Drilling with Richard and Vi, and then as much sleep as he could get. Another push by Raphael to get every advantage over him as possible. The Faerie was smart, he had to give him that.

He took a breath, holding the scent of the meadow flowers that were coming into bloom. It seemed almost a sacrilege to have to spill blood in such a natural and pure environment. Not that that would stop him. Not when it meant that it would be his blood staining the ground.

"He looks…ready." Richard said, standing next to Xander. Officially he couldn't take any position in the matter, but as his relationship with the young human was publicly established, his presence would not be a revelation to anybody.

"Thanks," Xander said, glancing at the Faerie. The other Faerie who was helping him wasn't there. Dominique had to maintain independence and could not allow herself to be unduly tied to the human now that there was an official challenge in the air. "That makes me feel so much better."

"Hey," Richard said, taking hold of Xander's shoulder. "I've seen the things you can do when you concentrate. You can do this."

Xander nodded, looking him in the eyes.

"He ain't nothing," Vi said, from her position on the other side. "You can do this, Xander."

Xander turned and looked at her seriously, nodding. He smiled, not really feeling it however. "I'll be seeing you."

Vi tried to return it, but found that she could only make it halfway. She had seen him in battle before. Knew that he often had to go out and do it without any backup. But, this was different. She had to stand there and watch, and could do nothing to interfere. Every fiber of her being, slayer and otherwise wanted nothing more than to walk over to the Faerie that had threatened her boyfriend and rip his head off.

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"You know we don't got to do this right?" Xander asked, looking at the Faerie standing in front of him. He made sure that his face was as blank and calm as that of the man in front of him.

Any anxiety and fear that he felt was pushed down way down into the pit of his stomach. They couldn't be allowed to make his hands shake or cause him to falter in the wrong moment. Of course, that wouldn't matter if he was completely outmatched in terms of skill.

"I think you know that we do," Raphael replied. He took a few practice swings with his cutlass. He wasn't worried about how the blade of the saber would do against the human's oddly chosen axe. Like his opponent's weapon, it had its own magical enchantments. Nothing that would disqualify it for a weapon used in an official dual, like a poisoned edge, but it would stand up to the brunt of an axe hit. Whether his arm would or not was another question.

Luckily he was an expert in the use of the blade. Unlike his now deceased kinsman, he had made sure that he was well rounded in his talents. It was highly unlikely that the human, despite how much he must have accomplished, would be able to stand against him. Still, he had to be careful.

He was wearing his family armor as well. It was nearly ancient and had served the family line when it had been worn in battle. Made by dwarven smiths of the strongest star metals, it would take the direct blows of mundane weapons. Kinetic energy carried on by momentum would even be lessened due to the magic of the armor. That wasn't to say that it didn't have its limitations.

Arrogance and underestimating humans was what got Thomas captured and executed. He would not make that mistake himself.

"Just so we're clear, you can change the rules you know," Xander continued to say. "We can just go to first blood. It doesn't have to go all the way. Death. Kind of unseemly, don't you think?"

"Soft?" Raphael said, a smile twitching the sides of his lips. "I would have expected more from someone like you."

"No," Xander said. It wasn't mercy. Nor pity. Nor any of a hundred emotions that would just be weakness in this case. "But, we both know that there are going to be consequences to your death."

Raphael looked the human in the eye. Noticing something that even approached Faerie levels of feeling, or lack thereof. He smiled briefly. "Well now, that just makes things more interesting."

The Faerie raised his gleaming sword in a mock salute and then took a few paces back.

Xander did the same, his axe resting lightly in his hands. He made sure to make it look like it was something of a burden to use as a weapon. It's weight or effective lightness would only be a great advantage if it was kept secret until necessary.

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Xander used the haft of his battleaxe to catch Raphael's downward slash. Pushing it aside, he swept the axe horizontally towards the Faerie's belly.

Unfortunately for one, the Faerie's graceful agility allowed him to move back, the axe missing by a hair.

Xander brought his weapon up again in a guard position. He kept circling, looking for an opening. He was somewhat surprised that things hadn't gotten messy yet. Maybe Raphael was doing with him, but he couldn't be sure. What he did know was that the Faerie was really good.

"C'mon," Xander taunted, his face aching already. The punches he had received had drawn blood. There would be bruises tomorrow, if he managed to live that long. Raphael on the other hand, looked as fresh as he had when he had first stepped into the meadow. "You going to make me wait all day for this?"

The Faerie moved forward, slashing quickly around, not letting the human get a feel for what he was trying to do.

Xander suppressed a grunt as he attempted to block and deflect the blows that were coming at him. They were almost coming too fast to see. He wasn't surprised by the speed, having been warned by Dominique earlier. But, knowing about it was vastly different from having to face it.

His armor was already pitted with scratches and dents from his failure to get out of the way in time. He would have to end this fast if he wanted to survive intact.

"Unnh," Xander spit out, as he caught a bad hit along his shoulder armor. The Faerie was able to turn the blade as he pulled out, causing a cut through the armor. He could feel blood start to flow from the wound he now had in left arm. At least the metal of his armor had caught most of it. If he hadn't been wearing it, it likely would have taken off his arm.

Raphael smiled, allowing the light of the sun to glint off of the crimson that now stained a portion of his blade's edge.

Xander breathed out, concentrating on the Faerie in front of him. He could feel a dark hate bubble up from his center. He kept it down however. Anger and hate would fuel his actions, but only at the expense of control. And, being out of control now would only get him killed faster.

He shifted grips on his axe, the movement causing the ruby on the end of it to glow with the light of the sun. It was positively stunning, and seemed to have an inner energy that radiated out.

Xander waited until he could catch the Faerie's blade on the haft of his axe again, preparing for a horizontal cut again.

Raphael saw Xander's movement. The second time that the human had gone to the same well. He prepared to move back as he pulled back his sword.

Xander shifted his right arm up and over, bring the axe around. Only, this time he did it at speed, the axe nearly a blur. Its magical enchantments allowing him to swing it with near supernatural speed as he closed in. The same spells did not affect the actual weight of the weapon though. When it hit, it hit hard.

The Faerie's eyes widened in shock as he felt a line of heat drawn across his belly. Sparks flew as the axe sliced open Raphael's abdominal armor and stomach.

Xander wasn't finished however, and brought the axe up again swinging against Raphael's saber. The blow sent the sword flying, as well as spun the Faerie around and down to the ground. He moved in closer, bringing the axe up for a killing blow.

"Soft," Raphael spit out slowly. He was on his back now, looking up at the human standing over him. He tried to reach for the knife at his back, but found that he couldn't shift his weight to get at it. "You don't have the guts."

Xander said nothing as he held the axe. Its head was over his shoulder, ready to swing in an overhead blow. His eye caught the light of the jewel on the end.

For a second, the ruby appeared to flash, as if there was some inner energy source that powered the weapon. The solid surface of the crystal liquefied. It moved like a living tendril and shaped itself, folding in on itself until it had formed a large crystalline spike. The spike nearly gleamed malevolently in the sunlight.

Xander could hear whispers in his head, driving him to destroy the enemy at his feet. The enemy that had threatened him. That would have threatened his family and everything he held dear. Raphael deserved to die. And Xander knew that he wanted to destroy the defenseless man on his back before him. To destroy him completely and utterly.

"No," Xander said, at last. He looked Raphael in the eyes. "Not that way."

Xander swung the axe in an overhead arc, careful to make sure the newly formed spike did not penetrate any flesh.

Raphael was surprised as he noticed the axe on its way down. He didn't think that the human had it in him to kill a defenseless person. Evidently, he had thought wrong. The last thing that he heard before the axe head fell was the human whispering.

"Not for you," Xander whispered. He swung down; the axe head splintered the Faerie's head in two. Blood spurted up and sprayed him. He didn't bother to wipe it off. Raphael was dead and that was all that mattered.

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"You should leave," Angelina said, watching as a troll carried the corpse of Raphael away to be processed. Inwardly she was glad that Xander had won. That Raphael was undoubtedly involved with what had gotten Thomas executed had not sat well with her. Of course, there was no proof. Still a human killing a Faerie would not sit well with many of the Fae in the realm, no matter how deserving.

Still, it was a legal challenge, and one where the true winner could not be denied. That would protect Xander, and she would be able to ensure that nobody would seek some type of vengeance for some ridiculous racial pride. She had underestimated the speed in which Raphael would strike. More so, she had underestimated just how dangerous the very young human was. The weapon he used was not normal. Not even in a realm where magical weapons were not uncommon was something like that seen.

In the last moments before Xander had delivered the final blow, she had felt something happen. She did not know what, but she knew that it was connected to deep magic. And, the knowledge that Xander was keeping it a secret while being able to utilize the weapon without being consumed by it was certainly something for further reflection.

"Yes," Xander replied, wiping himself off with a towel. The blood was mostly gone, the metal armor easy enough to clean. His face was another matter. "It over?"

The Lady nodded. "I will make sure that there is no retribution for this. Blood has been spilt and it has been satisfied. There is nothing left to be gained over this act, and I will forbid any actions to the contrary."

"Good," Xander said, tucking the towel into his belt. He took a last look at the Faerie royal and smiled. "I guess I should cut this trip short. For what's it worth, I did enjoy myself here. Well, for the stuff that's unrelated to this type of thing."

"I understand." Angelina smiled. "I hope you do come back. I will watch over the slayers that you sent. You have my word on that."

"See that you do," Xander replied. "Thanks for everything. I need to go talk to them now."

The Lady nodded. "Go, I'll clean up here."

Xander nodded and turned around, walking towards Richard and Vi. He took the time it took to get there to make sure that there wasn't any unsightly grue still sticking to his armor.

"Are you okay?" Vi asked, as she rushed up to embrace the man. It wasn't as pleasant as it usually was given that he was wearing armor and was all sweaty, but she would take what she could get. She made sure not to let her dislike of not being able to take a role in things show. She was a slayer. It was her duty to get involved when supernatural beings threatened the innocent, if one considered Xander an innocent.

It wasn't that she didn't think that Xander could take care of himself, because he had just proven that he could. No, it was something else. She knew that just as much as he wanted to protect and take care of her, she felt the same way towards him. And she sure as hell didn't like it when her boyfriend was threatened. It was a good thing that the Faerie was dead.

Xander made sure that he didn't grimace as his left arm was jostled. "I should probably clean my arm, but it isn't bleeding anymore."

"Oh, sorry," the slayer said, letting go. She examined him, making sure that he was really okay. "It's over now."

"Yeah," Xander said, nodding in confirmation. "It's over."

"Good," Vi said, glancing over to the still worn and bloodied spot where Raphael had met his end.

"Still a bit early, but I think we should cut this short," Xander said, looking at his girlfriend. "Give us some time to decompress after all. I think I need a vacation from this vacation. I'm glad you came."

"Yeah," Vi said, smiling at him.

Xander caught Richard's look at him. It was clear that the Faerie wanted to talk, but would wait until the slayer was not present. He nodded at him.

Richard just nodded back.

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"Be glad that I got finished early," the merchant said in a gravelly voice. He laid the stone on the table of his stall. It had taken quite some effort to do, but it had turned into quite an enjoyable job. The challenge was engaging, and it was unlikely that he would ever get to work on shaping such a jewel again. Truly an experience to be relished. Not that he would ever let the customer in on that. Wouldn't do to make it look like he actually enjoyed his job. They might even try to get a better bargain out of it if they knew. Couldn't have that. "As advertised. Take a look."

Xander looked down at the stone a moment before picking it up. He held it in the light and examined it closely. It was flawless. Perfectly clear, and the exact cut that he had ordered. As advertised indeed. "Looks good."

He still had to pick a band and get it mounted. But, all in all it was shaping up. There was a small part of him that thought that it was too soon to be designing and crafting the ring. Though the larger part of him knew how he felt and that it was the right thing to do. Besides, the actual design process and getting it custom made was a time intensive process.

Xander had his qualms about getting so deep in a relationship given what had happened in his last long term one. Of course, that only lasted until he laid eyes upon the slayer that had someone wormed her way into his heart again. Heck, they were laid to rest whenever he thought about her at this point.

The human used his left hand to reach into his pocket for the rest of the payment. Only a small twinge in his arm made him aware of his injury. It was healing quickly, likely a result of whatever poultice he had had placed on it. In a day or so, it would be healed enough not to be a liability in a fight. Too bad that that type of healing technology was forbidden from being taken out of the realm. It was something that he could have exported.

His face on the other hand, would still look like he went through a few rounds with a Mack truck for a few days more.

The Harkvoian scooped up his payment, making sure that it was complete as he spoke, "pleasure doing business with you."

From the tone of the stonecutter, it was pretty clear that he didn't mean it.

Xander smirked. Seemed like no matter how far away one was, if that was even in the same dimension, retail shops were retail shops. Whether manned by a human or whatever the being in front of him was. "Same here. Thanks."

He turned and started away from the stall. Richard had waited patiently as he had concluded his business. Lucky that he was able to pick up the stone early, now that he was leaving early.

"So, you going to tell me where you really acquired that thing?" Richard asked after they had walked in silence for a few minutes. The crowd was still going strong, so he kept himself from being too specific.

"Honestly, no," Xander said. "No offense, but there are secrets between us. This is one of them. You know what the hazards are."

He wasn't particularly happy about keeping secrets. But, it came with the job. Besides, the particular secret in question had consequences outside of the aspects of the saving the world thing that Richard was aware of.

Richard turned and took hold of the human's arm, making him stop. "I felt that thing. When you fought Raphael. I felt its power. I have seen what that type of power can do. That is not something that you want to take lightly."

Xander looked his friend in the eyes. "I know that. Trust me when I say that I know that."

Richard said nothing for a moment, trying to find something in his friend. "Just be careful."

"I will," Xander replied. He started walking again once Richard let go of him. "And for what's it worth, thank."

"What are friends for?" Richard asked.

Xander just smiled for a moment. "Let's go home."


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Chapter 16: The Other**

"I thought we had an understanding," Xander said aloud. Nobody else was in the room, but he knew that he was being heard. He turned around and looked onto the table. "You don't try any of that shit, and I don't sink you down the deepest, darkest hole I can find. I set you free once, doesn't mean I'm obligated to carry you around wherever I go."

Xander paused, listening to nothing that could be made out. Nothing audible, and nothing particularly in his head. More a feeling, laid upon him like a blanket. External to him, though he knew where it was coming from. "Don't give me that. I never said I was going to let you come out to play. Ever."

He walked up to the table, picking up the cleaning rag that had been tossed onto it. Xander continued to look at the axe that lay upon the smooth wood surface. "That's how it's going to be? You aren't going to talk to me anymore? Seems like you had plenty to say yesterday."

His face still looked like hell. His arm had already healed up nicely, and while his face didn't hurt anymore, the blows he had gotten would last for a little while longer. No accelerated healing for him, despite the stuff he had applied to his face. It would advance healing a little bit, and keep it from scarring, but that was about it.

"Don't give me that. You knew what I was when I picked you up." Xander reached out and held the axe aloft, rubbing the rag over it and making sure that the weapon was spotless. There was no dried blood or gristle on it. The nooks and crannies created by the intricate carvings were clear of gathered flesh and Faerie liquids. He may not appreciate what it had tried to do, but he had been trained to take care of his weapons. It was the only way to be able to rely on them in a fight.

He raised it up in one arm, inspecting it end to end. He didn't overextend or have to correct the hold, having used it enough to know its deceptive weight, as he knew its deceptive nature. The axe was clean from head to the ruby at the knob. It had reformed when the Faerie had been killed. Folded back in on itself until it was the large, glowing gemstone that it had originally been.

Xander wondered if it was actually looking a little brighter, or if it was just a trick of the light. "We good?"

He placed the axe back onto the table before bending down. Pulling out a long metal cargo box he flipped the thick clasps and opened it up. Inside laid a lion's pelt, or at least part of one. The head was still attached, but the rest had been shorn away until only a wide rectangular length remained. It had been cleaned and cut by an expert, if only acknowledged by the tribe, but the pelt made a nice wrap for the axe. They had been earned in the same day too. Not that anybody around here knew about it. Nor what it really meant.

Xander placed the skin onto the table, flipping it onto its back so that he could place the axe within. He wrapped it carefully, making sure that it was securely wrapped before using leather ties to close it up.

The lion's head was flipped back over, resting over where the axe's head was. There was no mane framing the face, as it was from a lioness. The true hunter of the species, it had been a formidable opponent. It was true that lions were fairly lazy, and that they stole much of their prey from hyenas. A part of him found that rather ironic. Didn't mean that lions weren't dangerous in their own right.

A single eye stared up at him. The other side of the lion's side had a heavy scar, a jagged reminder of how bad of a life it had led. A heavy injury that had meant the loss of an eye. It was on the right side, a mirror image of his own.

There was probably something poetic about that, but at the time he had been more preoccupied with something else.

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Two years ago…

"C'mon, where are you?" Xander whispered under his breath. He knew that he didn't have much time. His back was burning, and while it wasn't spurting blood, it was still slowly seeping out. That was a problem. The blood loss would eventually stop, but given the lion's acute sense of smell, it would make him stand out easily in the dry grassland.

Of course, that was sort of the idea.

He scanned the dried yellow and green grass in front of him as best as he could without moving. The rifle was hot in his hands, though thank goodness his hands were not sweating too badly. He couldn't afford to slip and miss the shot.

It was a stupid test. Not exactly some manhood ritual, but at the insistence of the small tribe's head magic man, he had to track down and kill the lion that had killed a few of his people. Nobody had been offered to help, but working alone wasn't a problem for him now.

None of it made sense. Lions normally weren't maneaters, though it wasn't considered to be aberrant behavior. There were cases, though mostly in the past. The Tsavo lions came to mind, though in that case it was a pair of males. Though equally maneless. Ironic that.

He kept the rifle still, moving forward as carefully and silently as possible. The grass rubbed against his pants, marking his path through the grassland. The rifle sling swung back and forth slowly in the light wind. It was an old Mauser, in .416 Rigby. It was good for big game, though it was lacking in any of the add-ons that would have been helpful. Even an old scope would have been nice. As it was, he was content that it shot straight and the ammunition would work when needed. Sides, at this range, he wouldn't have used a scope anyway. Of course, the lion would be much closer too.

Other weapons, larger weapons, would have been helpful too, but had been impossible for a number of reasons. Access was a number of days away for one. Picking something suitable to use against big game was another. As it was, he was happy that he hadn't been sent out with a spear and a shield. He just hoped that his memories of watching "The Ghost and The Darkness" didn't fail him.

In any other place, the thought of relying on a movie to help keep him alive would have been hilarious. Not when there was a multi hundred pound animal stalking him.

There were no disruptions in the grass around him. No bloodspots that were left behind by claws that had not so long ago been raked across his back. He would need to get them checked out, and to make sure that they didn't get infected, but that would have to wait. Of course, it might not end up mattering at all.

Then he saw it, over the right. Some bent and broken grass leading off to the upper right. Droplets of quickly drying blood were visible mixed amongst the broken stalks.

Xander moved towards it carefully, sweat causing his hair to stick to his forehead. His back started to itch, causing him to stop.

Going with his instincts, he turned quickly, bringing the rifle up and ready to fire. He saw the rustling of grass as the lioness came into view silently from behind. "Clever girl."

It had flanked him. Maybe even decoyed him to take him from behind. Oddly intelligent, but he had learned to never underestimate anything.

The lioness was staring at him, straight in the eye. She looked old. The scar that marred her right cheek a mark of how history had treated the beast. Her age likely made it difficult for her to catch prey. Especially as a solo hunter. Preying on humans was easier, and necessary for survival. Not her fault really. But, it fell on to him to protect people. She'd have to die. Not her fault for that either.

She stared at him for a moment that stretched out. It was as if she could see through him, and could see that missing part of himself. A kindred spirit of sorts, both physically and not. An old lion, perhaps ready to die. If he was a more spiritual man, he would have imagined that the lioness had seen the end, and had decided to give her life to him. Not a gift, but a return of something he was lacking access to. A killer instinct maybe, or the drive to survive. He had been in Africa and elsewhere long enough to be ready to kill when necessary, but maybe it didn't come as quickly as needed.

He would have to earn it though. That instinct would never come without earning it.

Of course, he wasn't a spiritual man. All he saw was a threat. One that needed to be killed, no matter how unintended the beast's actions had been. That was enough, and all that ever had been.

The lioness charged. He didn't know if it was moving slower than it could, but knew that it was vastly less than a lion's usual agility and speed. No wonder she had turned into what she had become. He fired, the bullet hitting it straight through the chest, and into her heart. The large bullet, game quality, was enough to bring it down. Not instant death though. Not nearly instant enough.

He didn't move, rifle still at the ready. Xander watched as the lion fell and slumped over. She still stared at him with her single eye, breathing slowly in a haggard pace. Her chest moving. The breath slowed incrementally. The life ebbing and flowing in and out of her with each passing breath.

He continued to watch her die.

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"I hope I don't ever need you. Really need you," Xander said as he leaned down. He placed the axe into the box, replacing the cover. Locks went onto the clasps, making sure that it was secure. Not exactly necessary, but he wasn't taking any chances.

Sliding it over to the wall, he placed it back into the large gun cage that it had originally come from. There was a lock on that also, to prevent easy access to the more mundane weapons thfat were contained within.

He placed it back in its spot and closed the cage's door, locking it. As he walked back to the center of the room, he turned around, whispers in his head. "Still, it's good that you'll be there if I do."

He turned back around; he still had work to do.

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"Do you know how many e-mails I got?" Xander asked, not taking his eyes from the screen. He didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Fifty three. Fifty. Three. I wasn't gone that long. Like a week. Less even. I really don't need to be CC'ed on absolutely everything that goes on here you know."

Cindy just smirked as she sat down in the chair across from Xander's desk. "Well, we kind of have work to do here. Would have been easier if you had been here, instead of off on vacation."

"That what they're saying?" Xander asked, finishing reading his last one, dragging it to a personal folder off the main server held inbox. He looked at the witch that was sitting across from him.

She shrugged, crossing her legs. She looked him in the eye, noting the still healing bruises and cuts on his face. "Not anymore. How'd it go?"

Xander was glad that she didn't press for details, although they had known each other long enough for that not to be an issue. There was no reason for asking questions that wouldn't get answered anyway. "Well enough. But, I'm back, and can concentrate on this thing for now. What do you got?"

"Whole lot of nothing. We know he's there, we know he's armed, and probably packing some pretty good defenses. Guys with guns, and probably some things more esoteric," Cindy explained. "There is a government investigation on him, not ours, but it's being handled right now. They aren't going to move in yet."

Xander nodded towards the computer. "Yeah, I read the file. So what's the plan?"

"Lampkin wants us there. In Cleveland. Eventually, and not so far in the future I think, things are going to reach a place where we need to move in. We all don't think that there's much more that we can find intel wise. And, we can't sit on this forever," Cindy continued. "Curtis is already there liaising with the SAC on site. It won't be pretty, but hopefully things will be smoothed over before we have to make a move. We need to make an appearance. Let the local Feds know that we mean business. All that political people person stuff that you're so, so very good at."

"We authorized to go in?" Xander asked.

"It's your call on site." Cindy smiled. "But, I don't imagine that Grainer'll be too happy if you hurt too many people's feelings if you push it real hard. You know those government types."

"We are those government types now," Xander reminded her.

Cindy sat back, as if insulted. "Please, I'm still the awesome independent chick I've always been. Now just with a nice hefty and steady paycheck."

"We'd be going in a man short," Xander said, referring to one of the e-mails he had received. He smiled at her though, enjoying her antics. It reminded him of something that he had thought was gone forever. "Too bad Scott can't come with us."

It would be bad enough for him and his team to go in. A full on pseudo-military strike team, with governmentally traceable operators, would raise too many questions with the joint task force already on site. As it was, his lack of traceable skills and related training would only lead to dead ends and brick walls if the SAC tried to get all jurisdictional on them.

"Well, you've done worse odds," Cindy replied, knowing what he was talking about. Paul had been recalled back to the Vatican. There'd been a security breach, and he had been requested to lead the investigation. None of them knew exactly what was up, but whatever had happened, it had to be pretty bad, internal security wise, for them to clam up as they had. Even to Xander.

"Great," Xander said, not feeling it. He started to turn back to his computer, needing to review the plans and background information again. If he had to lead a mission, he needed to know what he was getting into. Information was life, after all. And he wasn't going to kick it to the curb to go the mall or clubbing or something. "Get your stuff together. Tell Abby to do the same. We're going to leave today."

"Is Vi coming with us?" Cindy asked.

Xander paused, turning back to the witch. "No. Why? We got our slayer back. She's going to hang out for the rest of her break."

Cindy brought a finger to her lips, indicating that he should stay silent.

Xander nodded in understanding as he watched her chant under her breath. It was barely audible to him, but he recognized it as Mandarin. He even understood a few of the words. Something about quiet. Or silence.

Cindy finished up and nodded to him. "Abby's been in contact with the slayers. Rona's having a problem, and we suspect that a lack of ability to handle it will cause some conflict in the Council. Buffy's had some successes of late, and that's becoming attractive to some that view Faith's attitude as less than ideal. She's not exactly a people person you know."

"And, you want Vi to talk to her." Xander moved in closer to the desk, looking at his witch. He could feel a slight tingle from whatever spell that she had cast over the room. He knew that she kept her own office secure fulltime, justifying it by saying it was bleedover from the magical stuff she had there. That explanation wouldn't fly in his office though. "I can ask her. But, I don't imagine that Buffy is going to be harboring fond feelings towards her. Even after all this time, and well, girlfriend status notwithstanding. Her werewolf thing really that bad?"

"Nobody's saying anything…really," Cindy started to say.

"But, that's message enough," Xander continued for her. He thought about it, not wanting to get involved for a number of reasons. Grainer didn't like his absence, nor the bombshells that he had dropped. He didn't expect that the usual latitude would be shown to him for things that weren't demonstrably necessary. And the Council wasn't exactly that high on the priority list anymore. Not with the agency expansion that was still going on. "Damn. Okay, I'll ask her."

"I don't suppose there's anybody that you could think of that would be able to help?" Cindy asked, mentioning the other idea that she and her teammate had talked about. "Werewolf? Witch doctor? Something? I don't exactly have someone I can just call up."

Xander's mind went to the werewolf he had known in the past. The name had come up in the past, but only in regards to Grainer. It hadn't been of operational importance, and really, not many people talked about absolutely everyone they had known in the past. "I'll think about it. Anything else?"

"No," Cindy said as she shook her head.

"Then it's time to get ready. There's something I got to do over there first, so you guys will have to meet up with Curtis and I'll catch up with you after," Xander said, turning back to the computer. "I'll call down the hanger. I figure, four hours."

Cindy stood up and left, chanting again quickly to drop the spell that she had just cast. She hoped that Xander would be okay, but from how banged up he was getting, she wondered if he was getting in over his head. Well, more so than usual.

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Two years ago…

Xander lay on his back as still as he could. He grit his teeth as he felt the sterile saline splash over the wound he had on his back. He didn't make a sound.

"What the hell were you doing?" Dr. Tamara Demas said as she wiped away the excess. She had to make sure that it was clean before closing it up.

They were claw marks. She could tell that much. She just hoped it was from something else, and he hadn't been foolish enough to go after the lion by himself.

"Looking for a convenience store. I ran out of Twinkies," Xander replied, trying to lighten the tone, for her sake. He did it through grit teeth, and with no real emotion. "Just sew me up, doc. I got things to do."

The doctor sighed. She was a member of Doctors Without Borders and had been called in to help with the recent lion attacks. Xander was the first none native that she had seen in quite some time. It was nice, to a point. Mainly Xander's personality.

That last bit was what he considered a joke. But, she knew that his heart wasn't in it. That creeped her out for some reason. She didn't want to imagine what he considered humor when he was really trying. But, the tribe allowed him to stay. And he was obviously there for a reason.

Dr. Demas picked up the needle and needle driver and started on stitching up his back. If anything, she was glad that he was there. He had managed to obtain antimicrobial sutures and tissue adhesives. She wasn't sure where he had got them, but she was pretty sure that it wasn't legal. The supplies she had taken with her had quickly been running down. The lion attacks were quite frequent, and though many died, a number had lived and required treatment. Treatment that was only possible with him.

She placed the sutures carefully, happy that he wasn't squirming from the pain. He seemed to handle the pain quite well. Something that was obvious from the number of scars he had. A number of them were quite old. She didn't ask the cause, knowing that he wouldn't tell her anyway.

The sounds of elation drifted in from the outside. Tamara didn't bother to turn around, concentrating on finishing up the sutures and applying the tissue adhesive. It would cure, and protect the area from infection. Something that was important in their current environment. A dressing would be placed on top to protect the wound further.

"Lion won't be a problem anymore," Xander said, noticing the sounds.

"What did you do?" the doctor asked, still concentrating on her patient.

"Fixed the problem," Xander replied. "Look, I got stuff I need to do, so if you're done…"

Tamara sighed, then applied the dressing, making sure that it would stay secured. "Don't do anything physical."

"I'll try," Xander said, getting up. He had no real intention of following her advice. He picked up his shirt and put it back on, buttoning it up. "Thanks, Doc."

He walked out the door and into the bright sun.

Dr. Demas watched him go. "What would I know, I'm just the doctor."

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"So what's it going to be?" Xander said over his phone. He spoke in a quiet tone, doing his best to be inconspicuous. Jack was next to him, keeping an eye out in the stairwell that they were standing in.

He was just glad that the pair had picked an out of the way place to hole up. Not exactly a fleabag motel, it was still less than up to date, security wise. Guess the paper didn't cover that much, at least in reimbursable charges. Or they wanted to keep under the radar. Might even have worked, if they knew what they were trying to hide from. Good for him that they really didn't.

It hadn't been hard to find them. After all, they were legitimate newspapermen, or newspaperman and woman. As a result, they had used company credit cards to order the tickets. And the same company credit cards to book the room. Their names had been flagged and had popped up easily for the agency. The connection to the room was just as easy.

He idly wondered how they had managed to last so long on his trail without getting killed by the type of company that he usually hung around.

"Right," Xander said, into the phone. He glanced over at Jack, catching the other man's eye. The beard that was haphazardly placed on the man's lower face was rather funny, but it would do its job. "So it's a go. Good."

He closed the cell phone and placed it into his pocket.

"It on then?" Jack asked, looking at his team leader. He idly scratched the glued on beard. He didn't usually go for the spycraft, but getting his face potentially plastered in the papers was not something that he wished for. There were still enough enemies out there that might come calling if he suddenly showed up.

"Yeah." Xander nodded.

Jack nodded towards the other man's face. "Ye should be wearing a mask. Ain't that what ye usually wear in these particular circumstances?"

"I'm bringing them in," Xander said. He reached behind his back and pulled out a small black handgun. The man took a small suppressor and screwed it into place. He checked it and put it back into place at his back. "Halfway. At least, after a nice talk."

Jack smirked as he brought out his own weapon, getting it ready. "And if they dinnae listen to reason?"

Xander shrugged. "Cindy mixed me up something. It'll permanently fuck them, and won't help with everybody else that's been on the story, and the stuff that's already hit print, but it'll certainly be a setback. May be enough to get them to drop it completely. Last resort though. Oversight is watching this, and this is a step that they won't exactly be comfortable with."

"As much as they might want to do it themselves on their own critics," Jack replied glibly. "Ready?"

Xander nodded. "Let's go."

The pair moved up and out of the stairwell and walked down the outside hall towards the room that Ray Cusack and Alexandra Sachs were staying in. They made sure that their weapons remained hidden, reaching the motel room door quickly.

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Two Years Ago…

The flashlight cut a swath through the darkness. Dust motes drifted through the beam as it was played across the chamber. Thick dust covered everything; Xander's movements making it billow up.

He was sweating hard, the heat and close confines made the room stuffy. Xander wiped his hand over his forehead, both slick.

The stone chamber echoed with his footsteps. It had been thousands of years since anybody had stepped foot in the temple. Stone carvings lined the walls, and statues and columns stood against the walls leading up to the back of the chamber.

It didn't take long for Xander to find what he was looking for. It was a simple temple for a relatively simple tasted deity. The god didn't much care for pomp and circumstance, and traps were unnecessary. Protectors lived in the area, and it was impossible for anybody else to find it.

Instead, what had caused it to fall into disuse was something above, as opposed to the actions of man. Of course, the actions of a man now would cause it to become live again. If only for a little while.

"Here we go," Xander said, as he came upon the setup at the back of the room. In the center of the stone wall was set a large stone ring. It was made of a glossy black mineral, cut from a single piece. Its smooth and polished surface could just be made out amongst all the dust. It was the find of a lifetime, carvings all along its surface extending the worship of the Greek gods to a range far longer than had previously been thought. Of course, that was only if he was an archeologist.

Xander stopped before a large stone bowl set waist height upon a block. He blew on it, having to close his eyes for a moment as the dust lifted up off of it. Reaching into his bag, Xander pulled out a few glowsticks, cracking them and tossing them across the room.

The green glow made everything all the more eerie. He ignored it as he set the flashlight down and pulled off his shoulder bag. His movements made his muscles tighten, his back pulling awkwardly at the adhesive and dressing on his back. Xander ignored it, as he started to root around inside his bag for what he would need.

He lifted up a plastic container filled with blood. It had been taken from the butchering of the lioness. The lioness' carcass would be used as food, and the pelt and claws would go to him as a trophy. There was tragedy on both sides of that situation, though at least the death would allow for some good.

Xander unscrewed the cap, and poured the warm blood into the stone bowl. It pooled thickly in the middle, filling the concave surface halfway with blood. He screwed the cap back on and placed the empty bottle on the ground.

"We need your help they said," Xander muttered to himself, as he rooted around some more in his shoulder bag. He pulled out some plastic baggies filled with assorted items and placed them on the smooth stone floor. "Now, this is the place I have to go. The magic man's seen me in. Son of a bitch."

Xander reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He read it over once, to ensure that he followed the ritual correctly. He didn't know what would happen if he screwed it up, but given his history with magic, he was sure that it wouldn't be worth it to find out.

"An offering to Deimos, son of Ares, so that the enemy fear what is to come," Xander spoke loudly and strongly, reading off of the paper. He bent down and picked up one of the baggies. He emptied its contents into the blood. The dried sprigs of some herb he didn't recognize now rested on the surface of the liquid. He dropped the bag back onto the ground.

"An offering to Phobos, son of Ares, so that the enemy know the true meaning of horror," Xander again chanted. This time he picked up another baggie, and emptied the ground up bull's horn into the bowl. The baggie was again dropped onto the floor.

Xander picked up the final bag; this one filled with some liquid that he couldn't identify. Pulling the binding off of it, he could tell that it smelled foul. Like tar or oil. He poured out as much as he could into the bowl, watching as it covered the mixture in the stone. He read the paper again, making sure that he would be able to get the last incantation correct.

"Black blood of the Earth, an offering to the god of war. Bringer of Destruction," Xander intoned. "May the world hear his name and tremble."

The mixture started to boil, though there was no obvious heat source. It was what was supposed to happen, according to the chief that had sent him out there. He hoped it was the case, at least.

Xander placed the empty bag on the ground and unzipped the flap on the cover of his shoulder bag. He took a flare out and pulled the cap off. Striking it, he ignited the fusee and dropped the red fire into the bowl.

It ignited in an instant, sending a great gout of purple flame up, nearly hitting the ceiling of the temple.

Xander watched as it died down, to a small blue fire. As it did so, there was a rumbling as the stone circle in the wall started to tremble. The intricate carvings glowed red for a moment as a rift was formed in the center.

It was like staring into a vast emptiness. A black hole. There was nothing inside that he could see, and it just went on through the stone wall.

"Real easy," Xander muttered to himself as he reached into his shoulder bag again. He pulled out a handgun and stuck it into his belt, making sure that the safety was on before he did so. A grenade was also clipped to his belt. It was next to useless in a small enclosed space, but he didn't know where he would end up.

He placed the shoulder bag back onto his shoulder and walked up to the stone ring. He looked at the abyss, feeling vertigo as if he should be falling towards it. "Like stepping through the goddamn looking glass."

Xander stepped through, feeling as if a thick liquid was trying to suck him down beneath its deceptively placid surface.

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Jack knocked on the door twice. "Maintenance."

He heard footsteps move closer to the door from inside the room. There was some hesitancy there. Not unusual given the circumstances.

The door cracked open, but only to the degree allowed by the chain on the door.

"Yes?" the man on the inside inquired. He leaned in close to the door, checking out the man outside. The uniform fit those that the motel's staff wore. But, he hadn't noticed any problems.

Jack watched as the middle-aged man checked him out. He didn't think that he would be able to talk his way into the room, but Xander had insisted that they had to try it before going in hard. "Yeah, there's a problem with some of the phones, and I'm going room to room to check them out."

"Well, there haven't been any problems with ours," Ray said, becoming rather suspicious of the man standing outside. He couldn't place his finger on it, but his long career in journalism had allowed him to hone some pretty fine instincts. Instincts he trusted. "I'll let you know if there are any issues."

"Okay," Jack said, brushing the hair on the side of his head with his left hand. He moved over to his right as he did so.

Xander moved in from the side of the door where he had previously been hidden. He raised the bolt cutters to the height of the chain and shoved them into the crack in the door. He quickly squeezed them shut, cutting the chain with a quick snap.

Jack swept in quickly, pushing the door in and raising his pistol to the man's head. "Back up."

Ray complied as the man in the maintenance uniform came into the room. He unconsciously raised his hands as he backed up. The reporter noticed the other man come into the room as well, dressed the same as the first man.

"Be quiet," Xander said, as he shut the door. He locked it and placed the bolt cutters on the ground near the entrance. He pulled his handgun from behind his back, leaving it pointed at the floor. "She in the shower?"

Ray nodded, gulping as he noticed the eye patch that adorned the second man's left eye. Suddenly, the room seemed small. And they had even sprung for adjoining rooms.

"Mr. Cusack, sit down. On the bed," Xander said, moving into the adjoining room through the open connecting door. He heard the sound of the shower before he entered. Taking a place by the closed bathroom door he waited until the shower turned off. It was only a few minutes, during which time Jack had secured the male reporter in the other room.

Alex opened the door to a gun in her face. She gasped in shock at the intrusion.

"Cusack's in the other room. We're going to join him," Xander said, keeping the weapon pointed at her. He covered her as she moved into the other room, taking a seat on the bed next to the other reporter. Jack put restraints on her as well.

After they were both uniformly secured, he placed the gun back into his belt. He pulled a chair out from the desk and sat facing the both of them. Jack stood against the wall, his gun still out, though not pointed at anyone in particular.

"I suppose you know who I am," Xander said, sizing the two of them up. Employment and surveillance photos didn't always capture the essence of a person. They were actually rather calm. Given Cusack's experience, he probably wasn't too perturbed. He probably thought that if his death had been the goal, he would already have been killed. The younger reporter on the other hand, was fidgeting nervously. Calmer than he might have expected though. She definitely had spirit. "I've been reading your stories. Not bad. I mean, most of it is bullshit. But, it's not bad. You've gotten rather close. That's more than can be said for your competition."

"Thanks," Ray said calmly. "One-Eyed Jack. So that's what you really look like."

Xander nodded. "Yup. And, normally I would just kill you. But, people would begin to wonder about me, especially after your last story. I mean, ties to the Russian mob. That doesn't make me look very good all things considered."

"What are you saying?" Alex asked, regaining some of her courage now that she had some assurance that she wouldn't be killed.

"You write what I tell you to write. You get a good and verifiable number of stories until this things die down, and I get my name out there as someone that isn't a bitch for the Russians." Xander leaned forward in his chair. He looked them both in the eyes. "That, and if I ever, for some reason, need the help of reporters, well, then I get you. And, who knows, maybe I'll even be able to toss you a bone about other things. My face, stays out of the paper. Now we both got things we have to trust the other about."

"What if we say no?" Ray said, journalistic integrity forcing him to say the words.

"Then my associate over there gets to have some fun." Xander inclined his head toward the other man. "He's not personable like me."

"I'll need some time to-" Ray started to say.

"No," Xander broke in. "Now. Tick tock. Three seconds."

Jack brought his gun up.

"Two seconds," Xander said, no emotion in his voice.

"Okay. Okay," Ray blurted out excitedly. "I guess I don't have a choice."

"Nope," Xander confirmed. "And your next story can be about how I don't actually hang out at Russian clubs and don't work for Russian mobsters. In fact, after the Cheka murdered thousands of my people, I don't have a particularly strong liking for them. Especially after the forced repatriation that, well, let's just say that it ended badly for my grandparents. Get it?"

Alex looked at him in confusion, and then turned to her partner.

Ray noticed her confusion. He had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes or sigh at the uneducated state of the youth. Even those that were reporters on what were international stories. He turned towards the man currently making his life undesirably exciting. "You're a Cossack."

Xander shrugged. "Amongst other things."

"They say that the Cossacks fought for…" Ray trailed off as he noticed the man's expression.

"They say a lot of things," Xander said, allowing some anger to enter his voice. "Not all of them truth."

"So what, you don't like the Russians? I guess you don't like the British either." Ray tried to get in a more comfortable position, but the quick ties prevented it. "Is there anybody you do like?"

"You'd be surprised." Xander smiled, like a jackal. "That's it. I have your personal numbers. Make something up about how I was sighted at some Russian club, but that it was for reasons unrelated to working for them. I might have something else to send you in a week."

He stood up, pulling a knife from his pocket and extending the blade. He walked over to the pair on the bed and cut the ties off of Ray. He noticed that the older man showed only a trace of fear. Man of brass balls that one was.

He shoved the tie into his pocket and moved to the woman. He noticed her shiver as he bent over. He whispered in her ear as he cut, "easy. You haven't given me a reason to hurt you yet."

He placed the cut tie into his pocket as well and walked back to the chair. "I see this being a rather profitable endeavor for both of us. That's it. We'll see our own way out. Thanks for the chat. Get to work. I'll be waiting for your story tomorrow. Oh, and you really should try to verify BBS posts on the Demons board. Those guys will say anything."

"You," Ray said, not being to get anything else out. "That was you?"

Xander smirked. "You guys are really easy. Don't you know, you shouldn't believe everything you read."

He started for the door, picking up the bolt cutters as he got to it.

"Why?" Alex asked him.

Xander turned his head to catch her in the corner of his eye. "You know where I've been. All the shit going on in the world and you have to ask? You either step on people, or you get stepped on. I learned a long time ago that nobody's going to help you up."

"And that's it?" Alex continued to press, growing bolder.

"Oh, I like you," Xander said, turning around. "Off the record, I wasn't alive for the Cold War. And, everybody thought that the first world war was the war to end all wars. It never is."

"That doesn't explain…" the reporter trailed off. She didn't get what he was getting at.

He looked at her again, noticing that she seemed unnerved. Maybe something to do with only wearing a bathrobe.

"World needs people like us," Xander replied. "Keeps things from getting too off-kilter. One life to save millions. Or to start war that might need starting. 'Sides, pays really really good."

Xander turned and walked out the door, Jack covering him on the way out. They walked toward the car, making sure that they weren't being tracked. He didn't have to worry about the cops being called on them. Or dusted fingerprints for that matter.

"Cossack?" Jack asked as the reached the car. He unlocked the door and slid into the driver's seat. "I didn't know ye were a Cossack."

Xander grinned and sat in the passenger's seat. He closed the door and buckled the seatbelt as Jack pulled away. "Goldeneye. Love that Sean Bean."

Jack just shook his head as they headed out. They still had a job to do after. The real main reason that they were in Cleveland.

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Two Years Ago…

Xander turned quickly as he heard loud sounds from behind him. He watched as previously unlit torches set along the walls and pillars suddenly burst into flame. The flames bathed the room he was now standing in a constant, but flickering light. There were many rows, going up higher and higher. He could barely make out the torches that were in the highest row. Wherever he was, it sure wasn't in the same place he used to be. Even the air seemed different.

He turned the flashlight he had been holding off, and stuck it back into his shoulder bag. Moving up cautiously, he scanned the area for any movement. There didn't appear to be any, though the large stone columns could be used for cover by any number of things. He estimated that they were easily as large as grown redwood trees. It took him some time to make it to the center of the room.

The pillars were set equidistant from each other, except for a large area near the center of the room. That was empty except for a stone pedestal, dwarfed by the surrounding columns. Upon it lay an axe. It was rather like the Scythe he supposed, though that particular weapon had been embedded in its resting place. This just lay upon it, though if his multiple viewing of "Raiders of the Lost Ark" were any indication, it was likely trapped.

"Now, what would the old man want me to find over here?" Xander said to nobody in particular as he stepped up to the pedestal. His voice bounced off the walls, reverberating and dying off.

He bent over to examine the weapon, making sure not to touch anything that might be a trigger. It looked to be a very dangerous weapon. All sharp edges and blades. There were intricate carvings though, and was made of an odd yellowish material that seemed to glow in the soft light. He didn't believe that it was gold, though he couldn't place what it actually was. A large ruby at the end reflected the torchlight. "Now, what do I do with you?"

A giant red flame erupted next to him. He scrambled back, aiming his gun at it. Oddly enough, he felt no heat from it.

The flame coalesced into a glowing figure, the licks of flame distorting the body at times. "You come before me, warrior."

"Yeah, and you would be?" Xander asked, noting the heavily armored appearance of the man that was now speaking in a booming voice. He had his suspicions though.

"Ares, the God of War accepts your challenge of merit," the figure continued to speak.

"My what?" Xander asked, glancing around to see if more men on fire were going to appear.

The helm prevented him from seeing the face, but Xander had a feeling that that was probably a good thing at this point. He watched as the figure raised a gauntleted hand and pointed toward the axe.

"To bear my weapon, you must prove yourself worthy," Ares stated loudly. The figure turned to look at the man that would seek his symbol. He moved his hand and pointed it towards the stone pillar nearest to axe.

Xander looked at what the figure had been pointing to. Nothing happened for a moment before the figure next to him blinked out of existence. "Aw, crap."

As if on cue, the ground started to shake as the pillar was split asunder. A large form walked out of the pillar, towering at least nine feet and made of solid stone. Xander could even hear the grinding of rocks as the thing strode toward him on cloven hooves. Sparks appeared as it strode forth.

"Aw, crap," Xander said again, bringing his gun up. He fired a couple of shots, watching as they did nothing but chip some stone off of its broad human like chest.

The stone minotaur snorted once and lowered its head, beginning to charge at the man that was in the chamber.

Xander ran, not looking back at the monster that was quickly approaching his position. He tried to use his superior mobility to tuck around the stone pillars, but the monster was just dodging them. Surprisingly agile. A few of them were knocked aside too. Apparently the weaker ones. He didn't imagine that it would work forever, given that a good number of them looked to be load bearing.

He skidded to a stop, and dove to his right just as the minotaur came past. Luckily, the creature's momentum carried it into one of the stone columns and caused it to stumble to its feet. Xander took the minor distraction to duck behind one of the other columns, his back tight against it.

Breathing hard, Xander stuck the gun back into his belt. It would be of little use against that thing. Plucking the grenade from off of his belt, he pulled the pin and waited. He scooted over the side, and took a look. The minotaur had regained its bearing and was moving again, canvassing the area for its prey.

Xander straightened up, mind working furiously for a way out. He moved towards the other side, and checked out the way that he had come. The path of destruction was obvious. Stones littered the floor and columns had been broken; huge chunks now lay scattered on the floor. His eye found one column hundreds of yards away that had a huge crack in the middle, but was still intact, for the moment. The plan was formed in an instant, and he ran.

The minotaur heard the movement and turned, finding its prey quickly. It ran after the human interloper, stone hooves thundering down on stone floor as it made its way back down the now debris laden floor. It had to be careful though, in order to not stumble over the rocks on the ground. The human was able to bypass them much easier, but it would soon be able to overtake him. It was only a matter of time.

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"Hmm, I dinnae think that's what they're supposed ta be doing," Jack said, pulling the car up to a stop a mile or so off the road. There was no real trail, but the trees didn't grow close enough nor the other plants high enough to prevent him from just driving through. He watched through the windshield as Curtis was talking with another man in a suit. It didn't look like a friendly conversation.

"Yeah, obviously something's up," Xander remarked, taking off his seatbelt and getting out of the car. He walked towards the men that were arguing. He imagined that if it was any louder, Garza and his men would have heard it and come running. "Let's go see what's the what."

Cindy walked over to intercept the men. She had dropped Vi off at the House earlier in the day, but Xander's task had taken long enough that she had been able to get to the target site before them. "How'd it go?"

"As expected. They won't talk," Xander said, coming up to a stop in front of the witch. He glanced over at Curtis. The former FBI agent was arguing with someone that he could identify as the SAC of the investigation. A third man was with them, probably from ATF. "How'd everything go on your end?"

Cindy shrugged. "Pleasant surprise for them I guess. But, it's pretty obvious to Buffy and Giles that she's there for a reason. Abby's down there to. Make it a little less certain. Faith wants to talk to you though. When you're done here. I don't think it should take that long."

"Hopefully," Xander said. "Okay, let's see what we're up against."

Xander walked up to the trio of men, Cindy and Jack flanking him. He waited until they paused for a moment, before clearing his voice.

"Who are you?" Special Agent in Charge Figliuzzi said, looking over at the man that had just approached him. He noticed the eye patch and the mass of bruises on his face. While he was expecting someone from Meyer's team to come down, he had little idea it would be a man like that.

Xander reached into his pocket and pulled out his ID. He held it up to the man's face so that it could be read. He showed it to the other man too. "Someone with a higher pay grade than you. Both of you. What's the situation?"

"Agent Meyers here, thinks that we should move in closer. He suspects that something is happening and that we need to find out what," the SAC replied, the sarcasm nearly dripping from his voice. He didn't need to take crap from a young upstart like the man in front of him.

"What's up?" Xander asked, looking towards the former FBI agent.

"We've picked up movement, and there's been some rumors that some weapons were going through the city today." Curtis said, speaking only to his boss. "I believe that it's going to be here."

"Based on what? And, where are you getting your hunch from?" SAC Figliuzzi inserted sarcastically. "Something else you can't explain?"

"It's good enough for me," Xander replied, before things could get out of hand. Any past personal antagonism had evidently not ended. He turned behind him, looking towards the other people from his team. "Get prepped, and find a position. I want to know if anything's going down. Cindy, you too. I want an eye in the sky."

"What do you think you're doing?" the FBI agent nearly bellowed. "I'm in charge of this operation, not you."

Xander turned to the man, refraining from sighing. At least the other man wasn't doing anything until certain of the situation. While the FBI agent had not gotten to his position without some skill, he didn't want to hear about it. At the very least, he knew that the man respected the chain of command and would back down from trying to usurp power if shown that he officially was not the head man there anymore. "Correction, I am in charge. Call your director if you want, but jurisdiction doesn't apply here. You can stand aside, or you can leave. Oh, and pull anybody you got out of here now. They ain't going to want to see what's about to go down."

Xander started to walk off, Curtis following. He didn't know exactly what was going to happen, but he wanted to prepare for it. He started to take off his jacket as he walked toward the car he had come in, unbuttoning his shirt along the way.

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Cindy sat down, crossing her legs beneath her. She listened, but other than the normal sounds of the forest, there was nobody around. Chanting to herself in a mix of languages, she cupped her hands before her.

Nothing happened for a few moments, until a small golden spark appeared. It grew, and within a minute, formed a glowing yellow shape. It was a small hummingbird, looking like what Xander called a Green Lantern construct, only from Guy Gardener's ring. Whatever that meant.

The witch smiled warmly at the small familiar that was now floating excitedly above her hands. It was an air elemental that she had pulled out of the aether when she had been in training. "Rascal. I need you to fly up and send me what you see. You've been here before, remember? There are detection lines, so make sure you stay away from them. I don't want you to get hurt."

Rascal flitted around, making a slightly annoyed sound as if it didn't like being told to be careful.

Cindy shook her head as she sent the spirit floating away. In her mind's eye she saw the trees pass by quickly as her familiar buzzed through the forest. Eventually it hit sky, giving her a slight feeling of vertigo as it swooped through the air.

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Jack crawled into position carefully, making sure that he stayed out of the areas that had been designated as no go zones according to the map they had created. It meant that he wouldn't be detected by Garza's security forces. While he was armed with a rifle, handgun, and a number of grenades, a gunfight wasn't something he particularly wanted to get into if he didn't have to.

He pulled a small pair of binoculars out of his pocket, scanning the area. He was off to the side of a makeshift trail. The former soldier of fortune recognized that it was wide enough and flat enough to allow large trucks to get to and from Garza's compound. However, the way that the trees were allowed to grow overhead meant that it wouldn't be visible from the air. Even the new satellites that detected heat levels and weren't just digitally enhanced snapshots wouldn't pick up anything more than large heat signatures.

He felt and heard small movements along the ground. Jack craned his neck looking down the trailer. He used the binoculars to get a look, and saw two large trucks headed his way. From the way that they were riding high, he knew that they weren't loaded. Which meant that it had to be a buyer. From the size of them, he knew that it would be a large order.

"Shit," Jack grumbled to himself as he reached over to trigger his radio.

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Two years ago…

Xander pulled the pin and released the spoon. He counted down in his head, tracking the distance in his mind. He had dissembled the grenade soon after he had originally purchased it, making sure that not only would it detonate as planned, but that the fuse was cut correctly to blow when he wanted to.

He glanced over his shoulder, trying to keep the fear down as the minotaur caught up. It was still a few yards away, but would soon catch up. Xander tossed the grenade to his side, watching as the Vietnam era M61 rolled its way up to the foot of the column. He didn't stick around to watch it go off, concentrating instead on making sure that he wasn't hit by any flying debris.

As a result, he didn't see the explosion, but rather heard the sound of it. Mixed with that was the crack of the column splitting and falling. He spared a look as he rounded a side, catching a glimpse as a giant chunk of the rock pillar fell right on top of the stone minotaur's left shoulder.

Xander heard a groan as the beast thundered to the ground. He risked stopping; resting against the shaft of one of the columns that were intact. He breathed in and out deeply, catching his breath. He still heard some noises, rocks being scattered across the ground, indicating that the monster was still intact. But, he knew that it wasn't moving really fast.

He peeked out around the cover of the column, watching what remained of the monster writhing on the ground. His plan had worked, the column crashing down and cracking the minotaur in half. Whatever it was, it was tough though and was still moving towards him as well as it could. Not getting anywhere, but still trying.

"Damn," Xander muttered. His eye widened as the minotaur locked onto him. Snorting it coughed up a flame and send it directly at him. It moved quicker than he could have imagined, causing him to stumble back.

"Shit," Xander grunted as he ripped off his shirt as quickly as he could. The smoldering remains of his shirt hit the ground, leaving him some quickly reddening burns on his upper chest. He stamped it out as quickly as he could before checking himself out. He didn't seem too badly off because of that attack, but it certainly didn't make him feel any better considering his previous wounds.

As he was busy with that, he failed to notice the minotaur's next attack until it exploded one of the columns right next to him. Xander grunted in pain as he got a bowling ball sized rock across his ribs. From the sound and the grinding feeling that he could feel, he knew that a rib had been cracked or broken. Luckily it hadn't hit straight on.

Xander backed up, trying to put more distance between him and the minotaur. While down and not moving, it was still capable of putting up a fight. He didn't think that would cut it though. The "challenge" wouldn't end until the monster was as dead as it could possibly be.

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"Maybe we should call for backup?" Curtis asked, glancing over at the SAC who was now on the phone. Likely to confirm the new situation. From the expression on his face, he obviously didn't like how things were sounding. He smiled inwardly to himself, some unnecessary validation for what he had gone through when he had worked with Figliuzzi before. Didn't mean there wasn't some happy to be had.

The other suited man was next to him. Looking unhappy.

"It's just a looksie to make sure that nothing's going down. I'm not planning on going in myself," Xander said, strapping on body armor. He pulled a mask out of the trunk and placed it into his belt. He attached the wire for his earpiece to the radio and stuck the head into his ear. "Abby can stay at the House until we need to actually make a move. I'm not that crazy."

Xander heard a voice over the radio, and paused to listen to it. He noticed Curtis look at him with some anxiety on his face.

Xander chuckled for a moment before turning to face the former FBI agent. "Funny thing, you were right. Trucks are coming in. Jack says big ones. We're going to have to, kind of, go in now."

"Aw crap," Curtis said, rolling his eyes. He shrugged off his jacket and placed it into the car. He noticed Xander grab a rifle and a bag and start jogging towards the compound. "What are you doing?"

"We don't got the time." Xander said, coming to a stop and turning around. He took the time to pull the mask over his head, making sure that it didn't disrupt his radio. "Hook up with Cindy, and find a cover position. Jack and I are going to go in."

"What?" Curtis nearly exclaimed. He hurried as he pulled on an armored vest for himself, and hurried over to his own car where his own weapons were, including a long rifle. "This is insane. You have no backup."

"Don't worry, I got minutes to come up with a plan." Xander smiled, rather scarily, as he noticed that Curtis' protests didn't keep him from preparing himself. "And well, that's just more for us. Get in position, we move when I give the go."

"Xander," Curtis said to himself as he watched his team leader hurry away.

He finished up, and started the other way, planning on heading for a higher position. The former FBI agent slowed as Figliuzzi walked over to him, looking angry.

"What do you think you're doing?" the SAC said, noticing the commotion. "You can't move in now. And the SRT is at least thirty minutes if we call them now."

"Yeah, well reality doesn't always follow your time table," Curtis told him. He faced his former associate. "You heard about his clear?"

"Yeah," Figliuzzi said, nodding in subdued anger. "He's in charge."

"Yeah," Curtis remarked. "He is."

Curtis left, getting into position. Whomever _he_ is, the man thought.

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"That's the plan," Xander finished as he spoke over his radio. He looked through the trees and plants, and through the chain link. He noticed the number of guards on the surface, all of whom were visibly armed. He was pretty certain that they didn't have valid permits for those weapons. Nothing nonhuman that he could tell though, at least from the surface.

His eyes scanned the assembled group. Xander noticed Garza speak to whom he assumed was the buyer. The other man had a briefcase in his hand, likely the payment. He didn't look familiar, but there were probably a number of people that purchased weapons that he wasn't aware of.

In a few minutes, the product would be brought out and inspected. Then money would exchange hands, and the order would be loaded and be sent on its way. He would interrupt that plan though.

Now to come up with a good distraction.

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Two years ago…

"Okay," Xander said, getting up to his feet with a groan. His chest and side burned. And he had a feeling that his back would have ripped his sutures if he hadn't had an adhesive applied over it. Didn't make it feel any better though. "What do I still got?"

He reached into his pockets and searched for his remaining equipment. The handgun would be less than useful, as would the knife in his pack. The sounds of the monster did not improve his thought process.

"C'mon, c'mon, okay." Xander thought aloud. "What would Buffy do?"

He had to pause and laugh aloud at that thought. As if it would help now. As if she could help now.

"Gun won't work. Knife won't work," Xander continued to verbalize to no one. "What else do I have?"

He would have been pacing, but for his injuries. It seemed like a situation that he should be pacing in. His eye widened as he came up with a plan. It was an insane one, but it was the best one he could think of. Nobody ever accused him of being particularly stable anyhow.

Xander unloaded all of his bullets onto the ground. He grabbed the remains of the shirt and piled the bullets onto the largest patch. The rest of his ammunition from the bag went with it onto the rag. He tied it off as well as he could. It was a lump, but at least it was throwable. He left the bag on the ground to maximize his speed and agility.

He grabbed the tied off rag and the empty gun and made his way as close to the stone minotaur as he could. Keeping as quiet as possible, he managed to get with a half dozen yards or so. He grabbed the gun from his belt and threw the empty weapon over to his left as hard as he could into one of the stone columns down the way.

It clattered against one of the pillars and then the floor. The minotaur had heard it, straining its neck to track the noise. It sent a blast of flame towards the noise, allowing Xander unrestricted access to the other side.

He ran to his right and towards the minotaur, getting as close as he dared. He waited until it had turned back to face him, before preparing to throw. Xander stared at it as he saw it widen its mouth, seeing a small ball of red and orange flame swell up in its throat. He threw his tied up shirt as hard as he could straight at it, running as hard as he could after he had done so.

He threw himself behind one of the remaining pillars as the minotaur's head blew up. Whatever energy source that powered the thing, or only its flame weapon, must have been volatile as the explosion was much larger than anything that cooking off the relatively small amount of ammunition that he had left would have caused.

Xander dragged himself to his feet as best as he could, looking down as he noticed a sharp pain in his leg. One of his pant legs was ripped, blood staining the hole. He pulled out his knife and cut it open, noticing a ragged looking cut along his calf. He grimaced and used the knife to cut off as large a strip of his pants as he could, wrapping it around the wound. He kept himself from making a sound as he wrapped the rag around the wound. He would have to get it cleaned and bandaged, but that could wait until he was sure that the monster was dead. As it was, he didn't hear anything, but he still had to be certain.

Xander moved as carefully as he could, walking towards the downed monster. He saw it in pieces. Its head spilt into a number of pieces, the rest in large chunks laying out on the stone floor. The pieces were smoldering in places, black with the fire that had been its center. It wasn't moving. Thankfully.

It made little sense, and was mostly luck and quick thinking. He didn't question it though, a win was a win.

He chuckled to himself and made his way back to the platform that housed the weapon that was evidently his prize. It took him a couple of tries to find it though, noticing that he had traveled a lot farther around than he had thought.

"Hmm," Xander said, walking up to the axe. He heard whispers in his head, as if there was an invitation being handed to him. He was being called out, having passed the test. He reached out hesitatingly.

"What is the code of the warrior?" the flaming figure bellowed in question, reappearing as the man reached for his weapon.

Xander stopped, knowing that he likely looked ridiculous as he stopped in mid-grab. He turned to face the figure, watching as it stabilized. It wasn't solid, but he knew that there was likely some intelligence there. It wasn't completely some type of magical holographic projection he believed. Not with the way that it looked at him.

"What is the code of the warrior?" the figure of Ares asked again, staring down at the small human. His eyes raked over the man's body, seeing scars, both physical and mental, all over him. If ever there was someone to become his hand on Earth until it he could return, it would be this one. One with a soul as violent and dark as his could be. Kindred. The fire only needing to be drawn out. Metal to be tempered.

Xander just stared at the figure, understanding that while it was part of whatever god the thing was, it was still a projection. Which meant that it was linked to a greater power of some sort. He noticed that he hadn't been criticized or punished for using modern weapons, or for not challenging the monster with his own bone and muscle. That counted for something.

"Answer," Ares commanded.

Xander grinned darkly. Understanding burst in his mind like a star going nova. "Victory."

Ares nodded. Victory indeed. Nothing more and nothing less. The god figure turned a hand towards the weapon beside it. "Then Ares bid you take up your weapon, Alexander."

Xander didn't bother to wonder why the god knew his name. If he was even the smallest part of Ares, then that was probably the least of what he was capable of. He reached over to pick up the axe, only pausing slightly to answer the quiet whispers in his mind, establishing domination over the motivations that it was placing in him.

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"Thanks," Abigail said, taking the soda from Faith, as she sat down on one of the chairs in Faith's room. She noticed that it was fairly neatly organized. Probably Robin's influence. "What's going on?"

"Rona," Faith replied, taking a seat on the large bed that lay against one of the walls. "She's not doing too good. I was wondering if you guys knew anybody. Or if you knew someone that could help?"

The slayer from Xander's team shook her head. "I don't know anybody. Xander knows about it, but he's got this thing, and he'll be here."

"So he is in town?" Faith had not been told what Xander was doing in Cleveland. While he wasn't exactly working with them, she had been surprised that she hadn't heard anything about something happening in town. She called him on occasion to talk about how the Council was doing, as well as how she was dealing with being one of the responsible ones. Reflecting, she now noticed that he had avoid telling her much about what he was doing, even if it was related to her own duties. "He's going to come by? What's he doing?"

"Yeah," Abby confirmed. "He'll be by."

She avoided the other question, knowing that the relationship, albeit tenuous, between the Council and Garza meant that she should keep it a secret. As much as she may trust the other slayer, the classified nature of their work meant that it had to be kept in the family. That was the way things worked in the government. For necessary reasons, as her father had drilled into her since childhood.

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Xander continued to watch as the truck was loaded. He couldn't think of anything spectacularly effective, but he went with the old standby. Explosives.

He triggered his radio, giving specific instructions. He finished in a couple of minutes. "Get ready for it. Go on my signal."

"Oh, Vi is going to kill me," Xander grumbled to himself. He shook his head as he pulled the pin off of the grenade he was holding. Rushing through the forest, he knew that he would be picked up by the detection magic that Garza had laid down. With the speed he was going it wouldn't matter.

Xander nearly reached the edge as he tossed the grenade as hard as he could over the fence and onto the grounds. He ducked down beneath a fallen log to take cover as well as to prevent easy detection. Jack would pour fire onto the men that were on the ground, while he used the two attacks to manufacture a way onto the grounds. That was the plan at least.

He hoped.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

**Chapter 17: Force Multiplier**

Xander tucked and rolled, narrowly avoiding the gunfire that was shot in his general direction. They were firing wild, not surprising given that his calmer shots had taken out a couple of the guards already. It was just some return fire to keep him from advancing further in. A couple were somewhat close, a testament to them actually being somewhat trained.

He grunted as he came to a stop, his back against the thick wall of the cabin. The wood would stop the bullets that were still being fired at him. Sneaking a peek, he checked out the opposition that was gathering.

The leadership, Garza and his buyer had managed to make it back inside before he could fully engage. But, the guards had mostly stayed and were being supplemented by forces coming out of a side door. It was like a clown car; there had to be quite a bit of room in the suspected complex underground.

Xander ejected the magazine of his rifle, pulling another from his webgear and slapping it home. He heard a couple of shots, rifle shots, from the far side of the facility. Curtis, providing some covering fire and keeping them from trying to rush his position. A few of them were felled as well from what he could tell. Automatic weapons fire soon joined it. It was closer, an indication that Jack was still around and making trouble.

He moved into a crouching position, bringing the G36 up to bear. Xander waited until the guards had turned their attention to the fire that was coming from behind them before opening fire himself. He made sure to place the shots in a clear line of fire to avoid hitting anybody on his team. That wouldn't do at all.

"Snake Eye, we've got incoming from below you," Xander heard a voice in his ear state. "It's big and magical."

"Shit," Xander muttered under his breath. He reached down and pulled a grenade off of his belt. A quick glance showed him that they had taken some cover behind one of the trucks in the yard. A few shots against it proved that it was armored. Not exactly the ride that any legitimate businessman would have. Pulling the pin, he counted down a couple of seconds before throwing it at the largest group of guards. Or more specifically, rolled it under the truck.

He stayed as low as he could as the grenade blew up. There must have been some explosives in the truck as the explosion that ensued was quite a bit larger than what one would expect from a simple grenade under a truck. At best, he had hoped to take the legs off of the people that had hidden behind it. What he got was much better.

As it was blowing, Xander ran as hard as he could, moving toward the fence, and towards some of the equipment that was in the yard. It looked like some construction equipment, and the thicker metal would provide better cover than the scrap metal that made up the truck. He noticed that Jack had had the same idea and had used his distraction to link up with him as well.

They both ended up behind the small yellow earth mover at the same time. Xander noticed Jack's smirk as the Irishman fired blind over it, emptying the magazine from his own weapon.

"Having fun yet?" Xander asked sarcastically, while he reached for his radio.

Jack just laughed. "I think we need some more fireworks."

Just then, the men heard a sharp crack as the side of the cabin seemed to explode outward. They turned to look, their eyes heading skyward as a huge mound of dirt burst forth from the remains of the cabin. A body flew out as well, Xander noticing that it was the buyer. Evidently, he hadn't gotten down below in time to prevent being caught in what was happening.

He didn't have time to dwell on that though. The mound of earth was moving on its own, the clumps of dirt and rocks rising to form a figure.

"Oh shit," Xander said, watching as a giant behemoth formed from the earth started to appear. It took on the rough shape of a bear with thick and crudely sharp grey stones making up claws and teeth. Someone there had control of an earth elemental. A wizard of some sort obviously.

He activated his radio. "Zebra, get down here now. We got an earth elemental needs dealing with."

Xander had to duck down as a surge of rocks struck the machinery he had hidden behind. The pings of the ricochets sounded loudly through the air. The bear was getting started early.

"So," Jack said, in a calm tone as he reloaded his weapon. He looked over as this team leader. "Having fun yet?"

Xander just returned the crazy smile that appeared on his team member's face.

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"So, I hear you've been having some trouble?" Vi said, sinking down and taking a seat underneath the large tree on the grounds. She looked over at her old friend as she leaned against the thick trunk. Though they hadn't kept that much contact, she could see that Rona didn't look all that well, despite the slayer's attempt to hide it. While she always had a bit of an attitude, she looked much more aggressive now. Though it was mixed with quite a bit of uncertainty and anxiety.

"I'll be fine. I'll get over it," Rona said, crossing her arms over her chest. Her back was against the trunk of the tree and she looked out over the field. There were some watchers and slayers scattered here and there. Some on a run, and some training.

They weren't that close to them, but she could still detect something in the air. There was some unease and electricity there. Xander being back and all was the likely cause, though that was only heard secondhand. Although, she knew that the conflict between Faith and Buffy also contributed. Faith was covering for her, she knew that. And if she had to be honest, she hoped that it wouldn't be a weakness for the lead slayer.

Vi glanced over at Rona, familiar with the other slayer's bullheadedness. "Yeah right. You want to talk about it?"

Rona continued to stare at the grounds. "Not exactly."

Vi smiled at the comment. "Let me say that again. We're going to talk about this. Now."

Rona turned to look at her, the redheaded slayer still smiling sweetly at her. She smirked back. "You got some iron now girl."

Vi shrugged. "It's been a while, I guess. I tried to keep in touch better, but things…"

"You moved, you have your own things now. I understand," Rona said, brushing it off. In truth though, she had felt somewhat hurt that Vi had left. It had been a larger burden when she had been turned. Calls on the telephone weren't the same thing as having her there. She made an effort, but it wasn't the same.

Although, she couldn't exactly blame her. Vi had a boyfriend now, and she didn't know exactly what she expected the other girl to always be there. She wondered why a lot of them were still there, considering that the world wasn't about to end, and they were mainly trained to a level acceptable for field work.

Vi frowned, "With so many slayers here, I didn't think that me being here would matter that much. And, Xander needed me."

"I told you, it's okay," Rona assured the other slayer. They were going off on a tangent, but she knew that Vi wouldn't let it go that way forever. She'd take what she could get though. Anything to avoid having to talk about the real issues. "What do you see in him anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Vi asked. Rona had never questioned her choice in men before. Although, Xander did have his own reputation. One the she knew was mostly earned, and not all based on luck and lies.

"We've all heard the stories," Rona continued. "The younger slayers may not get it, but we do. I mean, with what he does, Xander doesn't seem like the kind of guy you'd want to get involved with."

"What?" Vi said, shaking her head. "He's sweet."

"Sweet," Rona said, in disbelief.

"Yeah," Vi said, the need to defend her boyfriend strong in her. "He's sweet. And gentle, and the perfect boyfriend. And, we're getting off topic."

"Gentle," Rona echoed, rolling her eyes.

"Yes," Vi said, fixing a serious expression on her face. "Gentle. And we're getting back to the subject now."

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Xander slammed the head of the demon he had a rough hold on into the side of the dozer as hard as he could. He did it again, hearing the blood squish out of the wounds that had opened up on the stunned demon's face. A hard forearm to the back of the neck was applied, and Xander heard a sharp crack as he hit. He let the demon drop to the ground as he pulled his handgun from a holster and shot it twice in the head for good measure. Whatever this new foe was, it was a tough series of bastards.

Another demon hit the side of the construction vehicle to his right, a knife appearing in its throat courtesy of Jack.

"What the hell are these things?" Jack asked, retrieving his knife from the corpse that now lay sprawled on the ground. He ducked down quickly as another salvo of rocks headed toward them from in front of them.

The elemental had fully formed and was gaining greater awareness of its surroundings. Furthermore, the master would be able to gain tighter control of it now that it had stabilized. They only had a short time before it gained enough sentience to choose to attack them.

Xander quickly retrieved his rifle and fired another couple of shots at the earthen beast. It didn't do much but annoy the elemental and keep it from fully forming for a few seconds, but at least it was content to stay back and just fire bits of itself at them. For the moment.

He glanced over to his side. "You get anything?"

Jack chanced a look over the machinery he was behind and looked for anybody that looked like it was the source of the elemental. He saw someone hiding in the shadows cast into what remained of the cabin. It was hard to make out, but a man in dirty robes and bleached blonde dreadlocks seemed to be concentrating on something.

"Target in the house. Left side corner. Probably the wizard," Jack said, pulling back and looking back towards Xander. He knelt down and picked up his main weapon. "Looks like it at any rate."

"Okay, give me covering fire on Yogi out there," Xander said, reloading his gun. As he did so, Jack fired a few shots towards the beast. He waited until Jack had finished before he moved.

Xander popped up, sighting his rifle quickly at the target. He heard gunshots as Jack fired, but ignored it. The red dot from the sight fixed on the wizard's head after a quick moment's aim, Xander fired a trio of shots at the target.

Unfortunately, they never hit. An invisible force field caught the bullets in flight, flickering into visibility for a second as the rounds were stopped. They fell to the ground, smashed into flat bits of metal. The wizard never reacted visibly. A testament to his power. As if the towering earthen figure in front of them wasn't an indication.

"Uh," Xander said, ducking back down. He spared a look at the elemental on the way and noticed that it still wasn't doing much of anything. His attack may have split some attention from the wizard which left less to try to control the elemental that he had called up.

Which meant that it was only there under the barest of control by the elemental master. His research and lessons from Cindy indicated to him that it was a creature under bondage and that its size meant that the controller was extremely powerful, despite calling up something that wasn't fully controllable. Likely a wild plan to try to stop them. And it would, if Cindy couldn't come up with something equally crazy. If not more.

"Little help would be nice," Xander said into his radio. He pulled and tossed another grenade to keep the elemental back. Sooner or later it would get angry enough, or willing to follow orders. And then it would come at them. Constant attacks against the wizard wouldn't work, not with that force field in place. The wizard would just move back into the cabin, and leave the elemental to deal with them. And any grenades would likely be telekinetically tossed right back at them.

And none of that would end well.

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"I'm coming," Cindy shouted into the radio as she ran through the forest. She ducked branches and leaves as she made her way through the woods, always keeping an eye on the little flitting yellow light that was leading her.

As she got closer, following Rascal wasn't important anymore. The giant dirt and stone bear was hard to miss as it towered over the cabin.

"Aw fuck," the witch muttered to herself as she drew mystical energy into herself. She reached into one of the pouches on her belt and pulled out a piece of parchment. As she neared the fence surrounding the cabin, she sent some of the energy she had pulled through her ruby necklace to amplify and focus it. After it had had a chance to grow, she sent it down through her right arm.

The slip of paper in her hand ignited, engulfing her hand in a deep red and orange flame. She controlled the fire, letting it build and travel along her whole arm in a twisting pattern, pulling power and energy from the aether and air around them. As it continued to grow, she jumped, putting power into her leap, letting her clear the fence easily.

Crouching as she landed to absorb the blow, she brought her arm up, pointing it towards the earth elemental. Her eyes turned red, as the fire flared up. "Huo!"

The flames exploded out of her hand, thinning out into a serpentine form. A head appeared at the end. It had a thin face, with sharp teeth and an aerodynamic face. Spikes made of blue flame ringed its head, and two thin tendrils drifted down from its lower jaw.

The dragon made of fire expanded rapidly, soon becoming large enough to take on the other elemental. It engulfed it, wrapping its long flaming body around the earth bear's body, and binding its arms. The dragon snapped at the other beast's face and neck, ripping out chunks of smoking stone and ash.

As that battle was being waged, the witch raised her left arm, whispering in Latin. She lifted it, palm up, a translucent and slightly glowing shield appeared and expanded to protect their front.

The wizard, in the meantime, noticing that his elemental was under attack, retreated back into the cabin. There was a way out the back, that he could use to come up around the witch that he was now facing. He made sure that there was enough power left to tie the beast to the Earth before making his around. He would be out of eyeshot of the beast, and needed to ensure that it wouldn't try to buck his holding spell. Garza, his employer, was already down in bunker, waiting for him to finish off the attackers. He'd have some more surprises ready for them when he battled them for a second time.

Cindy noticed the movement through the corner of her eye. She couldn't do anything about it at the moment though, having to concentrate on her battle with the bear. She'd have to let the wizard come to her.

The witch didn't even look back towards her allies. She didn't trigger her radio. She just shouted, "Go!"

Xander didn't need a second command. He rounded the earth mover and advanced on the house, Jack coming up on the other side to cover him. Together they moved toward the cabin, making sure that it was clear of any enemies as they made their way in.

Cindy spared a moment to look up, noticing that Rascal was still flitting around nervously as it watched the large flame dragon twisting out of the way of the earth bear's clumsy strikes. Burnt dirt and stone continued to rain down. "Go with them, be their eyes."

Rascal flew off, diving around falling debris and into the crumbling cabin before the two humans had reached the tunnel entrance down.

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"How do you feel?" Vi asked, as seriously as possible. She made sure to note Rona's body language and expression, knowing that what the other slayer said wouldn't be the whole story.

Rona shrugged. "On edge. Everything's brighter and louder and smellier. It's a bit better now, but it's getting pretty annoying."

"And you're feel like lashing out more. Slayer instincts on overdrive, right?" Vi asked.

The other slayer nodded. "It's worse when I'm in crowds, but it's there everywhere. I hate it. I wish…"

"And you'd be dead," Vi interrupted. "You think that alternative is better? Your team made the right call."

"I know," Rona said, sighing. "But, there's something inside of me that feels like it wants to claw the face off of everybody I meet. Worse than just wanting to fight."

Vi nodded. She'd learned something about the fight or flight mechanism for survival in one of her classes. In her experience as a slayer, it was turned up to eleven on the fight side for them. It would be much worse for something that, for three days a month, was all fight. "You ever try meditation or anything?"

Rona shook her head. "I can't really let this out. Faith'll…"

"I know." Vi nodded. "I don't know what I can do, but I'll be here for you if you need me. And I'll make sure that Xander does what he can. He'll talk to Faith."

Rona looked somewhat skeptical at that, but she trusted her friend.

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Xander came up to the wall, leaning up against it, as Jack came to his side. They had caught a glimpse of a man with dreadlocks up above, but he had moved to engage Cindy. The witch would have to take care of him. Garza may have some sort of backup plan to extricate him from situations such as the one that he now found himself in.

The way down hadn't been that difficult all things considered. The inside of the cabin had been a wreck. The wizard's elemental raising had wreaked havoc on the interior, overturning furniture and most everything else inside.

Lucky for them, it also exposed a large metal door that was the way down to the lower levels. Even luckier, the metal door had buckled from stone and earth surging up from below, leaving a gap wide enough for the both of them to make it in.

He took a multitool out, flicking out a blade. He reached up to a line of cable that ran along the top of ceiling. He cut the plastic sheathing, exposing copper wiring. The knife blade went back into his pocket as Xander pulled out a small pack from his shoulder bag. He opened it up, taking out a small videoplayer with built-in screen with a couple of wires trailing off.

The alligator clips were attached to the bare wire, and Xander activated the screen. It showed nothing but black. He reached up and checked the attachments, as well as ensuring that he had hooked up to the right cables. Everything checked out. Which meant that the security system was down. At least the cameras. Probably due to the early attack. Lucky for them.

Xander glanced over to his left as he placed the equipment back into its holder and shoved it into his bag. The little bird creature that had followed them in was hovering expectedly, waiting to get into the action. He spared a quick grin at that. Rascal was nothing if not courageous. Foolhardy too.

"We're clear." He turned to look at Jack. A knowing look on his face; no words had to be said.

Jack frowned, knowing what Xander wanted. It made sense, given his team leader's impaired vision. Didn't mean he enjoyed it though. He'd still do it, but not without some grumbling. "Ye think it's necessary?"

"Just get it over with," Xander said, grinning wider. "Baby."

Jack shook his head, mumbling under his breath in Gaelic. He took a breath and set his feet, bracing himself. When he was finished, he look over at the floating hummingbird and nodded.

In a flash Rascal flew straight at the Irishman and phased right through the man's head. Residual energy was left as Rascal flew out the back and around into the corridor again. The energy bonded them, creating a visual linkage that caused Jack to nearly double over.

Jack had to put a hand against the wall to keep himself from falling over. He closed his eyes to prevent the vertigo from overtaking him, trying to get used to double vision that he now had. Rascal's constant flitting about and quick movements didn't make it any easier.

He'd had it done five times now, and it never got easier to take. But, it saved them from having to send a scout in to harm's way. Not that Rascal was invulnerable, but as he was less than physical, only magical attacks could harm the little supernatural creature.

"Ready," Jack grunted. He shook his head to clear it, making sure that he focused enough on his own vision to move and defend himself. He only needed to pay enough attention to the eyes that he was piggybacking on to see if there were any coming threats. Any more than that, and he'd puke as he walked.

Xander nodded and moved forward down the corridor. It had been built with cinder blocks and cement. Simple tunnels had been dug and reinforced, with strong fluorescent lights lining them. From the turns and corners that he could see, there must have been a number of rooms down there. Warehouses, barracks, storage, he had no idea, but he could hazard a guess. Large tunnels, necessary for the movement of merchandise, equipment, and likely personnel. If anything, there were probably quite a few of the bad guys down there if Garza had run down there to regroup.

An unusually large operation out in the middle of nowhere.

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"It's going to get worse before it gets better." Vi said. "I've done some research on it, and the more you resist, the harder it's going to try to fight back. To consume you. Regular humans can deal with it, because they don't have other influences. But you already got a fighter in you, and that isn't going to make it any easier."

"So what, I'm just supposed to give in?" Rona asked incredulously. "I start doing that, and throats are going to start getting ripped out."

"I can imagine where you would want to start with that," the redheaded slayer said dryly. "I don't have all the answers, but you're going to have to find a way to deal with it. To live with it. It's part of you now. And there isn't a way to just get rid of it. I don't know if you have to embrace it, but you are going to have to accept that it's part of you and that it's going to influence whatever you do from now on."

"I don't need that psychological bullshit right now," Rona grumbled. "You have any other suggestions?"

"Meditation? I mentioned it before, but it's supposed to help you center yourself," Vi said, circling back around. The truth was that she didn't have any real answers. The books didn't have much on werewolves in terms of how they actually thought and were affected by their condition mentally. The way that the condition affected slayers was something that wasn't touched upon either. Obviously. "If you can find a way to understand how this thing influences you, you may be able to get a handle on what to do when it tries. To make sure that you don't get out of control in the field."

"I don't know…" Rona said, skeptically.

Vi took a breath, turning to look her friend in the eyes. "If I don't think you have a handle on it, you're going to be pulled from field duty. Faith be damned, but if you can't hack it, then you can't hack it."

"I know," Rona said, sighing. She couldn't blame the other slayer. As much as she wanted to be there to support her fellow slayers, she also knew that they would be in danger from her if she wasn't able to deal with her lycanthropy. If need be, she'd pull herself out, with some excuse to protect Faith.

"Look, I'll see about getting Xander to help," Vi spoke encouragingly. She leaned over and hugged her friend. "And, I'll be here for you."

"Thanks," Rona said, a small smiled on her face. Her close physical proximity to the other slayer made her senses run wild. Vi's scent, somewhat muted given that she wasn't using any shampoos or soaps with fragrances, was obvious. Xander's essence was on her as well.

It was about as bad as it could get in terms of sensory overload, though the fact that it was Vi, turned it into a calming effect. It was nice that not all close physical contact was near headache inducing.

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Xander stopped at the intersection. The tunnels had gotten wider and more complex the longer they went on. They had suspected an underground level, but nothing like this. Evidently, Garza was either more important than they had previously suspected, or he was just really really paranoid.

They had faced a few guards, easily taken out with the previous warning that they had with Rascal on point. However, with more branches on the way forward, it was impossible to cover everything.

They waited for Rascal to move on ahead, flying quickly down the wide corridor quickly. He had toned down his glow as much as possible, much to his annoyance. But, with his speed he was hard to see now.

Jack concentrated on keeping up, noticing as the construct stopped for a split second to capture the image of a group of men guarding a particular corridor. A large metal door was at the end. The end of the line by all accounts.

The instant was over and the hummingbird doubled back. It wasn't chased; the group of men likely hadn't even noticed the little thing observing him.

Jack turned to Xander and held up his left hand, only his index and middle fingers raised. He reached down and ejected the magazine from his cut down rifle and placed it into an empty pouch. The bullet remaining in the chamber went into a pocket. He reached over and pulled a fresh magazine from another pouch, making sure that the tape around the end was red.

Xander looked over at what Jack was doing, making sure that the Irishman would be taking the backup position. He didn't say anything though, as he ejected the mag from his G36 and replaced it with one that was marked with brown tape. He also folded the stock out, bringing the butt of the rifle to his shoulder.

He looked over at his teammate and nodded. After Jack responded in the affirmative with another nod, Xander went to the end of the corridor and stepped around the corner bringing the rifle up. Jack followed him. Xander dropped to one knee as he aimed at the targets down the hall. The first couple didn't have time to react as he opened fire.

It didn't go as expected. The wooden frangibles exploded on impact, hitting the plating over the body armor that the vampires were wearing. They started to run at the man shooting at them as the bullets burst against the vests. They were already in full demon mode, and looked none too happy, their eyes glowing yellow malevolently.

Xander ejected the magazine from his weapons in a swift motion, idly noting the crack of a rifle as Jack opened fired with his own weapon. In a second and a half he had loaded a red tab and had raised his rifle to fire.

Most of the vampires had already gone down. Burnt to undeath with a touch of phosphorus on the air, Jack had quickly cut down the main thrust of the attack with incendiary rounds. Unfortunately for them, it was a straight shot down the corridor and the rest of the vampires had no choice but to attack or be dusted where they stood.

Xander finished off the remaining few with his own weapon, watching as they burst into flames. It didn't take long for them to burn up, but some small fires here and there were left as body parts and equipment were left to burn.

The smell was acrid as they waited for the fires to die down. They replaced the ammunition they were using back to the regular loads they had originally come down with.

"Hmm," Xander noted as they started down the corridor. All there was at the end of it was large reinforced metal door. Undoubtedly, Garza would have heard it if he was behind the door. "Any idea how to open it?"

"I don't suppose ye brought an acetylene torch with you?" Jack idly quipped, taking a look at the door. He noticed that there was a pad set into the wall, a grid of numbers indicating that it was a high tech combination lock. "Or do ye know a way to get around an electronic keypad?"

"Keep an eye out," Xander said, walking over to the keypad. He knelt down and lay his rifle on the ground along with his bag. He opened the flap on his shoulder bag and pulled out a small tool kit from the main pocket. Unzipping it, he pulled out an electric screwdriver.

"Let's see," Xander mumbled to himself as he looked for the right bit. "Redford Systems Mark III. Green and blue. I think."

He unscrewed the faceplate, and pulled it off, careful not to cut any of the wires that were hanging down. There were bundles of wires attached to it and circuit boards in the main part of the system as the faceplate hung. It was the newest model, he knew that. But, all of the electronic keypad lock systems for the company tended to have similar setups. And, similar vulnerabilities. Not that they were advertised.

"We could try breakin' the door down, ye now?" Jack said, over his shoulder. He kept an eye out on the area in front, while his third eye flitted back and forth down the other tunnels. There was nothing so far. "Kick it in, ye know."

"Quit yer whining," Xander replied back, not even turning his head. He had replaced the screwdriver and had pulled out a handtool. He searched for the wires attached to the battery terminal and locking mechanism. Suspecting that it was the green and blue wires in the back, he used the tool to decrimpt the wires. Attaching a small battery to the locking mechanism and terminal, he cut the green wire that led from the power source to the lock.

He was about to set up a power surge through the lock when…

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"So how is he?" Faith asked, closing the door to the conference room.

"Good," Abigail said, taking a seat on one of the chairs. Satsu sat next to her. Vi was on the other side of the table. "As good as can be expected. Just work, you know?"

"That's good," Faith said, nodding. She wasn't exactly sure what she should say. If anything the brunette slayer seated at the table intimidated her. She would never let it show, but Abigail was, in many ways, more of a slayer than she was. At least, more of a traditional slayer. While the young woman had never had officially been a potential, and never had a watcher, she had been raised to be able to handle herself. Faith would even wager that before she had been called, Abigail would have been a decent match against a full slayer.

"How's the situation with Buffy?" Abigail asked, getting to the heart of the subject. She knew that friction still existed. And from the way that the younger slayers were sniffing around, nobody had a stable position. A slayer's opinion, even one with Xander, was mostly respected.

"Giles wants me to work with her." Faith shrugged, and then smiled. Get her more involved in my activities."

Abby smiled back at that. "Right. I take it getting her to back off isn't on the menu?"

"I wish," Faith scoffed. "We're lucky that it's been mostly quiet around here. Other than her input on patrols, we haven't had to do that much. I guess you guys have been getting things done."

"Well, we do try." Abby leaned forward in her chair, putting a hand on her girlfriend's. "Let me guess, she's been placing her slayers at the top of the list of patrols and missions."

Faith nodded. It was one area that she was somewhat able to give some leeway on. There was nothing much going on in the city anymore or any of the other places they routinely checked out. At least, for the moment.

She had instituted more practice and training to make up for the drop in duty for her slayers, but knew that nothing compared to field work.

"At least she's actually putting them out there," Satsu stated, squeezing Abigail's hand. She didn't get as much time as she would like with her girlfriend. Though Abigail tried to make it out there as much as she could. Cleveland wasn't that far away from New York. Especially on a government expense account. "With some actual experience under their belts, a number of them are coming around to our way of thinking."

"Still, there haven't been many big threats. A lot of them aren't seeing this as being that dangerous," Faith added, giving her input from the leadership side of things. Some of the slayers were getting complacent. Even hers. She drilled them hard, but without the release of actual battle, she knew that it could actually dull the edge. Make them overconfident. She knew how disastrous that could be.

None of the seniors from Sunnydale were like that anymore, but given the sheer number of slayers, a lot of them still haven't had much actual experience. In a way, that was actually a good thing. Though not helpful for them at the moment.

Abigail hesitated before speaking, trying to come up with exactly how much she could say. "Everyone in this room has been vetted. But, consider what you let anybody else know."

She looked at them all, noting their nods. "There are a number of threats internationally that are being taken care of by our allies overseas. We contribute, or send people to contribute, when needed. Stuff over here…well…we're not the only team anymore. Backup teams included. And threats are being picked up a lot quicker and put down harder now."

"So what are you saying?" Faith asked, knowing that there was more there than what the other slayer was letting on.

"You need to start thinking about scaling down," Abigail continued. "Make them reserves, and start sending the ones you can home. You don't need a standing army. At least, unless you're planning on actually being the army."

"So we're obsolete now?" Faith blurted out.

Abby shrugged, glancing at her girlfriend. It wasn't something that was particularly nice to hear, but reality didn't change the circumstances of their existence. Or at least those of many of them. "That was kinda the whole point. You guys get obsolete, and you aren't targets anymore. And, you don't have to put yourself out there anymore."

"So what do we do now?" Faith asked.

"Whatever you want," Abigail replied. "Look. Slayers will likely be necessary for a while. And quite frankly, if Xander needs some backup, I expect you do provide it. But, let's face it, where do you see an army of slayers being useful? A vampire attacks in a city? That needs a hundred slayers? Or another Ascension? A guy with a Gustav or Javelin could take care of that with minimal risk. That's what modern warfare is. Not one girl with a sharp stick. Not anymore."

"She's right," Satsu broke in. "I, we, do what we do to protect the world. But, the slayers have been obsolete for a long time. It's just been that, in this country and a few others, things haven't caught up all the way yet. It's getting there though."

"The United States has the most technologically advanced military in the world. We don't throw waves of men at conflicts, because we don't have to. It's called a force multiplier. It's not down to one person anymore. Support, training, technology, one man is worth ten. More," Abigail said with pride evident in her voice. That wasn't to say that men weren't important. Battles were still won with boots on the ground after all. But, it was becoming more important to gain the needed intel and to make the right strategic choices before devoting personnel to a conflict. "So, unless you actually want to have slayers fighting major battles because they could be trained up to be a more effective soldier, then I'd start cutting them loose. Make sure they're trained if you need them. Give them refresher courses. And, look for the ones you haven't tracked down yet, but what else do you really need them to do right now?"

Faith swallowed, her evolving uselessness in the big picture was both heartening and disheartening. It wasn't a personal attack, but it did hammer home just what the end of the road was for them. For them all. "And that's what you want me to bring back to Giles?"

Vi nodded. "We all contribute. And there's going to be a place for us all. But, it's not going to be in battle. Not anymore. Do you really want to be doing this for the rest of your life?"

"Why are you telling met his instead of Xander?" Faith looked at the redhead and then turned back to the other of Xander's slayers.

"He thought it would be better to come from one of us," Abby said. "Another slayer. But, we've all talked about this before. This is what's happening. And, what's going to happen in the future."

"How far has this gone?" Faith questioned. "If slayers aren't going to be the better soldiers, then what better soldiers are going to be used?"

Abigail looked at her, and considered how much she should say. "There are programs in place. You've seen the results of some. Even if you didn't know it at the time. Let's just put it this way. Lives are being saved because of what Xander set up. Them. And us. And that should be good enough for all of you. Unless you're all so in love with your power and status that you think that you only matter when absolutely everything relies on you. That you need power and status to validate your existence. Hell of a way to live."

Faith just nodded.

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"Snake Eye!" Jack shouted, as he fired at the beast that seemed like it had appeared out of thin air. It was the largest wolf he had ever seen, its grey fur standing on end as it ran at them. Its eyes glowed orange as it bolted forward.

Jack ran forward as well, the wolf able to deftly maneuver out of the way of his shots. Its movement was incredible, ripping chunks out of the walls and ceiling as it made it was down. He moved forward to the intersection of two tunnels and moved to his right. Firing at the beast to draw it down that way. It ignored the opening though, and kept straight down the long tunnel towards the other of the men.

"Snake Eye! It's coming right for you!" Jack shouted, as he ran back the way he had come. He slowed as he reached the entrance though, to avoid potential friendly fire. Unfortunately, his position now also meant that he couldn't fire either for the same reason.

Xander had turned as soon as he heard the shot and gunfire. He grabbed his rifle and fired at the beast as soon as Jack was clear. It twisted to dodge, coming closer and closer. He made to duck out of its way, but couldn't get down in time. Time seemed to slow as it jumped at him, razor sharp claws extended. Ready to rip through his body.

Rascal zoomed in, somehow hitting it in the head with enough mass to send it into a wall. The beast didn't like that though, and with a swipe, sent the small creature crashing against the ceiling. The magical nature of the Wan-Shang Dhole allowing him to touch the air elemental and temporarily forcing it into corporeality.

Rascal squeaked as it fell to the ground.

Xander fired a couple of times, mostly missing. The beast turned to face him again and jumped up and at him. It went partly over his head, and partly through him. The magical wolf turning to smoke as its legs went through his shoulder to prevent flipping over. He turned in time to see it coalesce in front of the doorway.

"Shit," Xander said, moving to bring his gun around. It wouldn't do much, given how quick the beast could move. "Good doggie. Let's just stay calm."

The beast continued to snarl and protect the door. His master had trained him well. Xander reached to his belt and pulled out a knife. Not his utility knife, but another one. The blade was made of silver and was relatively weak by itself. It had been enspelled though, which made it particularly harmful to magical creatures.

The Wan-Shang Dhole stood up on its hind legs, stumbling a bit as its fur and skin bulged. The beast filled out, turning more into a wolfman, though its head was still fully lupine. It growled in pain as muscles filled in.

Xander backed up slowly to gain some ground, bringing up his gun to fire. He didn't make it though.

The beast pounced, one five-clawed paw swiping at the rifle that had tried to harm it. Xander rolled with it, letting go of the weapon and spinning. The monster fell onto its back, Xander on top of him. He dodged a few swipes of claws and made the attempt at a few other lunges as he brought the knife up. He plunged it down, straight into the thickly muscled throat of the Wan-Shang Dhole.

Xander slammed it down again and again until the beast stopped moving. Thick black blood spurt up from its wound, spraying his face. He stood up as soon as he was done, wiping his face off. He wiped the knife off on one of the few clean spots on the beast's fur and placed it back into its sheath.

He walked over to where Rascal was slowly rising, his wings beating quickly, if unevenly. He wasn't flying quit straight, but was still in one piece thankfully. Foolhardy. But, courageous.

"Well, that went well," Jack said, coming up from behind. He had been anxious, but had had some certainty that Xander could take care of himself. The younger man was nothing if not a tough bastard.

Xander turned and looked at the other man. "Thanks for the help."

"Yeah well, ye seemed to have a handle on it." Jack grinned broadly. "Let's finish this thing up."

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Cindy dove to the side as her shield broke. Shimmering shards of energy flashed like glass in the sun as it was destroyed from the energy bolt that the wizard sent at her.

The earth elemental was still in combat with her own fire elemental. She knew that it wasn't necessarily the best choice, but it was vastly stronger than any water elemental that she could call up on such short notice.

The spellwork that she had done throughout the battle was starting to catch up to her. In addition to calling up the air elemental, fire elemental, shield, and other combat spells, she had had to quicken her reaction time mystically. She could only do it for a short time without shorting out her nervous system and sending her into cardiac arrest. She needed to end the battle soon.

The witch rolled, as a telekinetic shockwave shoved bits of destroyed cabin and truck at her. She managed to find cover behind some construction equipment, leaning against it as she thought up her next move.

She went to the other side, and fired off a few quick energy bolts, watching them hit uselessly against the other wizard's shield.

In the daylight she had a better look at her opponent. The man was middle-aged, the signs of battle experience etched in the scars on his face.

"Come out, and I'll make it quick," the man shouted at her.

Cindy rolled her eyes. She was annoyed that someone actually spoke in such clichés. Especially someone that was trying to kill her.

She concentrated, pulling up magical energy, knowing that she couldn't pull off anything really powerful. Hopefully, she didn't need to.

The witch pulled a grenade from her belt, taking out the pin and holding it tight in her hand. She concentrated on its weight, fully taking it in.

She ignored the return fire, even though it blasted chunks out of the small dozer that she was hiding behind.

As soon as it was clear she dove, blasting the mage with a weak energy bolt. The man just grinned at her, raising his arm.

She grinned back as she raised her own in a throwing motion. The grenade left her hand and travelled in a quick pitch towards the wizard.

The man in dreadlocks just grinned wider, waving his hand to push it away mystically. He didn't get a chance to do it as the small explosive disappeared in a blink, reappearing an inch from his face, bypassing his shield.

Cindy ducked her head down, as the grenade exploded.

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"Ten seconds," Xander said, standing up and moving back. He moved over to the edge of the wall, pulling a flashbang and priming it. Jack had moved to the other side, getting into position.

Xander waited until the power surge forced the lock to cycle, unlocking the door. He moved in and opened it a crack, tossing the flash bang into it. He waited the three seconds before moving in, hoping to take anybody inside unawares.

There was only one man. He had a handgun, but was too busy rubbing his eyes to worry about the men that had just walked in.

Xander moved quickly over to Garza and belted him across the face with the butt of his rifle, the gun flying from the arms dealer's hands. He followed up by putting the man on his back and pulling a zip tie from his gear to bind the man's hands. He passed the prisoner on to Jack.

"We got him," Xander said, into his microphone. He turned to face the room, noticing the useless security monitors that displayed nothing as well as the racks of weapons that Garza had not been able to use. It was rather anticlimactic. Just the way he liked it. Especially after the bruises he was sure to have from dealing with the Wan-Shang Dhole.

There was some interesting stuff there. Weapons that a relatively midlevel dealer shouldn't have had. "C'mon. Let's finish up here and get back up top."

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"Whoa," Xander said, as he stumbled out onto the open ground. It was a disaster area of charred stone and earth along with smashed machinery. Along with a huge clump of dirt that used to be the earth elemental, he also saw the corpse of the dreadlocked wizard. What was left of his head had been torn off of his body, landing a few feet away.

"Took you guys long enough," Cindy said, leaning back against a fallen tree trunk. She was dirty and tired, the battle lasting for quite a long time. The guy was good, she had to give him that. Not as good as her in the end, but still quite a challenge. "One of you guys going to help me?"

Xander walked over, extending his left arm to take hold of the witch and hoist her to her feet. He helped her to walk out of the compound, Jack and the prisoner following behind. Rascal flitted around them as best as he could.

"What did you do to him?" Cindy asked, looking at her elemental fly less than stable patterns.

Xander didn't bother looking at what the small creature was doing, concentrating on making sure that the witch didn't fall. Whatever battle had been going on, it had taken a lot out of her. "Uh, he ran into a wall."

"Right," Cindy said, shaking her head. They continued to walk out of the complex. Rascal flying down and landing on her shoulder.

They left quite a bit of destruction in their wake, but were walking out with a prisoner. That would hopefully lead to some answers. Anything else that was in the cabin, the FBI and ATF could have after the cleanup crew was done with it.

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Author's Note: Took longer than I thought. I'm in the process of moving and going back to school, so updates will be less than stable for the next couple of years. Not planning on abandoning it. But, hopefully I'll be able to get out a chapter at least once a month. Thanks for reading and reviewing.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

**Chapter 18: 100**

"Curtis is going to stay behind and start checking the site out," Xander said, as Jack and Cindy got into the car. He idly rubbed at his neck; some small gashes he had picked up had started to itch. He had poured on some disinfectant, but would wait to patch them up until he got back to the house. "Sweeper team should be in soon to help out. He'll keep the looky-loo's away till they scrub down the site."

"How did the Old Man take it?" Cindy asked, waiting until Rascal had flown into the car before shutting the door. The little bird wasn't flying completely straight yet, and she wanted to check him out before sending him back to the aether. In full view of the people not in the know was not the best place, so she planned to wait until they got back to the House. Luckily, her battle had stayed in the area around the cabin for the most part, and none of the FBI and ATF personnel actually saw anything other than some explosions and fires. Things that were easily explainable. And with the right pay grade, the questions would be stoppable.

Xander shrugged, glancing over to her position in the front passenger's seat. "Let's just say that Grainer is going to want to talk to me when I get back. But, as long as there's still recoverable intelligence, and none of our guys got hurt, he won't say much. It's why he pays us the big bucks."

"Could be worse," Jack said, from the backseat. "Could have let the slayer handle it. Then where would we have been?"

Xander ignored the comment. He knew that the ex-mercenary wasn't exactly impressed with the workings of the Council. The Irishman didn't make the opinion known often, but Xander knew that as someone that was mostly self-trained or had gone looking for training, the former terrorist had a dim view of those that chose to fight, but were ill-prepared to actually do it. All the good intentions in the world didn't mean much without the conviction to carry them out. "So how many was that?"

Jack shrugged. "Additional seven, right?"

Xander nodded, looking into the rearview mirror. "That's my count."

"One hundred and five," Cindy interjected. "Which mean's…"

"Party time," Jack broke in. He leaned back in his seat and smiled broadly. Though he was in a similar state as Xander, he didn't mean it very much. He was used to much worse conditions. He thought for a moment, and then leaned forward, brow furrowed. "Shite, we're in Cleveland. Hell of a time to reach this particular milestone."

Xander shook his head. He glanced back briefly, smirking. "Don't worry, I got a place."

Cindy rolled her eyes, and shifted into a more comfortable position. She closed her eyes and slowed her breathing.

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"I need a shower," Xander remarked as he walked up to the House. The blood on him had mostly dried, but he was still sweaty. That and the dirt and other material that was sticking to his body and clothes didn't make for the best impression. It couldn't be helped, although he knew that it would have some effect walking in there with the blood of a number of demonic entities on him. That and smelling of gunpowder and grease.

"I need a drink," Jack remarked. The others looked at him, as he smiled. "Ye know, if we're all sharing."

"I want to check in on the whole Rona thing, and after that we can pick up and head back to base," Xander said. "Curtis and the guys should have some of the prelims done by then. If they don't need us back on site, we can head for home after that and get ready for tonight. What did Abby say?"

Cindy shrugged from her position beside her team lead. "About as well as can be expected. Vi didn't have much progress, but we both know that this isn't exactly something that you can work through in a couple of hours. You have any suggestions?"

"Just one, but I'd rather not play that if I don't have to," Xander replied. They reached the front steps, but didn't need to open the door. Rather, it was already open, Faith standing in the doorway. A tight expression was on her face, though it wasn't directly hostile, nor pointed at them. "You guys can just chill, while I check things out."

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"What the hell did they do to you?" Cindy said, sitting down. She pulled her feet up and placed her bag on the coffee table in front of her. Rascal flitted around as best he could in the air before her. She examined him closely, noticing that he looked a bit ruffled.

The little bird vocalized a small coo, causing him to dim a second.

"Running into a wall," Cindy said to herself, shaking her head. She looked down at the bag on the coffee table. She could feel the swirling energies rippling to the surface of the ugly patchwork leather bag. She placed her hand upon it carefully, focusing and drawing some of the chaotic energy that flickered out. Reached out with her other hand, she directed it in small waves toward the small creature. Careful not to overload the tiny creature.

She noticed the redheaded witch that was watching her work from the hall connected to the room, but ignored it. She knew that it was Willow, one of Xander's closest friends, but as long as she wasn't bothered, the Chinese-American witch wouldn't bother with her.

Rascal grew brighter as his being was refilled. As a creature of energy, healing was simply a matter of adding more compatible energy and incorporating it into its essence rather than having to heal by himself. Of course, death was relatively simple for the small creature as well. Dispersement or exhaustion on this plane of existence would destroy the creature or force into the aether. Without the willingness to travel between dimensions, it could be stretched apart into nothingness.

Cindy smiled, as Rascal flew in tight, confident circles. He was as good as new. His bright yellow glow making that fact extremely present.

"What is that?" Willow asked, once she was certain that the other witch was finished. She stepped into the living room, taking a seat on one of the couches. A part of her was jealous, though she was loath to admit it. She knew that the other witch was working with Xander's team; effectively taking her place in what used to be the Scoobies.

"Air elemental," Cindy said, only slightly turning her head to acknowledge the other witch's presence. "Little guy's been through a lot today. Just making sure that he'll be okay."

She concentrated on the flying creature again. She spoke in an affectionate voice, "you were so very brave. Thank you, Rascal."

Cindy waved a hand sending him home, as the little bird puffed up his chest in pride.

"I've never seen one that detailed," Willow remarked, her eyes on the tiny creature that danced through the air until it faded from sight. "When did you call that up?"

Cindy shrugged. "It wasn't easy at the time. But, I was eleven and wanted to make something pretty. He's not the strongest spirit form out there, but he's useful for scouting and the like."

Willow's eyes widened as she heard how long ago the creature had been made. Even now, she could not make something so perfectly crafted. And her earlier attempts at making creatures of light had met with moderate disaster.

Xander's witch could feel the amazement, even without turning to fully look. She smiled to herself briefly, before taking her hand off of her bag. She pulled it up and over her shoulder, the bag still resting on the floor.

Standing up, the bag falling to hip level, she turned to face the redhead. "Any other questions?"

Willow stood as well, facing the other woman. She sized her up, feeling a calculating gaze wash over her. She knew that she was being judged as well. "So you're Xander's Wicca."

Cindy scoffed at the statement. It just underlined the other witch's ignorance. As powerful as Willow may be, strongest in the Western hemisphere it was said, she was still woefully ignorant. Of course, that was the result when one limited oneself to what a bunch of daisyeaters believed. And Willow was 

supposed to be their expert. "I'm no Wicca. Why would you possibly conclude that I was?"

Willow suppressed the urge to glare at the other witch's accusation. "You're the team's witch right? And it's not like you've gone all veiny."

Cindy allowed a laugh to escape. It wasn't that funny, but the concept of the Council allowing Willow to be the head of the magical side of things was laughable. She was glad that they didn't have to completely rely upon the redheaded witch. Especially for teaching and training purposes.

She pointed to her bag. "This is a six demon bag. What the hell kind of Wiccan do you think I could possibly be?"

Cindy stared at the other witch, focusing into the beyond. It wasn't the best use of what energy she had in reserve, but she had managed to recover quite a bit on the way back. The amount of time she had been training had given her remarkable recuperative abilities. She scoffed at what she saw, though it was nothing that surprised her. She raised a hand to make half an air quote. "Your kind?"

Willow glared at the woman, crossing her arms. She had come a long ways from the days of fuzzy sweaters and tights. She was one of the most powerful witches on Earth, and didn't have to take criticism from someone that she could tell was vastly weaker than her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Cindy smirked. "Way I hear it, you're still calling yourself Wiccan."

"So?" Willow retorted.

The other witch just shook her head. "So? So, I can just about taste the blood coming off of you. The darkness in your essence. It's pretty damn obvious. Blood magic. Blood sacrifice. You've gone to the dark side, baby. You aren't a Wiccan anymore, if you've ever actually been one. A real one."

"I'll have you know I am very much a Wicca," Willow said, eyes narrowing and voice tense.

"Really," Cindy said condescendingly. She probably shouldn't be doing it, but the pride of a mage, of having the gift of magic, meant that practitioners should understand the responsibility of having that gift. Something that Willow was obviously lacking. Even now, after she had spent time with the Devon Coven. Guess they spent more time on control than responsibility. Probably not their fault, since time was a concern, but it was certainly something that Willow should have learned on her own. Or Giles should have hammered it into her head before she went too far over the line. "Do you have an athame and boline? And, do you celebrate the esbat too? Aww, how cute."

"Don't patronize me," Willow snapped. Her energy was rising, she knew, though she only paid a small amount of attention at controlling it.

"Temper," Cindy said, with little emotion in her voice. "Careful now. We don't want anybody to get skinned now do we? Power. That's all it ever is with you children. How much you can do. How far you can teleport someone."

"How dare you," Willow sputtered.

"How dare you," Cindy retorted. "I have friends that rely on you for guidance. That's a mistake that I wish could be rectified. I'm just glad you aren't their only influence. I've been doing this all my life. I'm combat trained. And, when I make with the big magicks, I don't screw up. I have a target that needs killing, I make sure it's killed. None of this, getting high on magic and using that as an excuse to off some guy that killed my girlfriend."

"You have no idea," Willow said, voice tight with memories of the woman she had lost. "And I would drop it if I were you."

Cindy chuckled. "You think I can't feel that? That dark energy just waiting to be unleashed? I met people like you in college. So repressed and uptight, and just the smallest taste of something dark and forbidden and they couldn't stop. Course that was a bunch of nerds in school, binge drinking. What's your excuse now? You're supposed to be setting an example and you're still a damn junkie. Recovering or not, you'll always be that crackwhore laying yourself open. You got pusher on you so damn strong, I'm surprised you managed to find any halfway decent wizard to work with you. Guess there isn't really a choice though. Your system's so flooded, you can't possibly get back to the white magic you so ignorantly claim you're into."

Willow said nothing, though the words struck her like a blow. Her eyes started to turn black.

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"So I take it this is important then?" Xander said, leaning back in his chair. He was seated in the conference room, still wearing much of his work outfit. He had ditched the body armor and web gear, along with the majority of his weapons. He still had blood and sweat and dirt caked on him. He didn't mind it so much though. It wasn't like it was an unfamiliar feeling. Not anymore.

"You could say that," Faith said, from across the table. She sized him up as inconspicuously as she could. She didn't know exactly what he had been doing, but it had obviously resulted in someone or something not going home at the end of the day. "What happened?"

Xander smiled. "Internal security matter. Opsec required us to not tell you. Sorry, but you know the rules."

Faith narrowed her eyes. "You should have told me."

"If it becomes an issue for you, I'll let you know," Xander said, ignoring the expression on her face. He didn't mind, considering that she had a right to be less than happy about the situation. But, he had his 

own team to worry about. And, the less people knew, the better off everyone was. "I'm your friend."

Faith's eyes widened slightly at the admittance. They had become closer, but it was strange to hear him say that.

"But, I got my family to think about," Xander continued. "And, you got yours to think about too. So, what did you want to see me about?"

"Rona," Faith said simply.

"Yeah, I heard." Xander nodded. He scooted up in his chair, pulling it closer to the table. "It's not going to be an easy situation. I hear you've been handling it okay so far. So, what do you need from me exactly?"

"You knew Oz right?" Faith asked. "I figure since you keep tabs on other people, you might be able to contact him for help."

"Oz," Xander repeated, smiling briefly. "No. I don't know where he is. Is that what you wanted me here for? To ask where you could find a werewolf?"

"Yes," Faith replied. "Why don't you know where he is?"

Xander sighed, blinking hard. "I'd like to think that we didn't part on altogether unfriendly terms. And since he's keeping his head down, and not getting into trouble, I leave him alone. I keep tabs on him, and the security on him would be tight. Even if Uncle Sam decides to not force cooperation, I don't think that the restrictions that would result are right. He doesn't need that."

"You think they'd watch him that closely?" Faith questioned, though it was mostly about another subject altogether.

"They're watching you that closely," Xander answered the unspoken question. "This is a dangerous game you're playing, if you need my help on something like this."

"I thought you would be there if I needed you." Faith said, somewhat hurt.

"You need transpo, I can provide transpo. Idents if you need to get into another country. Weapons. Equipment. Extract if things get hairy because people would die," Xander spoke, trying to keep emotion out of his voice. He could tell that she was in something of an emotional state. Which, while not the best thing for dealing with the situation, was good in that it showed that she cared strongly for her people. "But, I'm not here to hold your goddamn hand. You have a problem like this, you need to deal with it. Yourself, or find an independent. There's a whole field of study on demons. Werewolves have been around long enough that there's bound to be a psychologist in the field that could be of some use."

"I tried," Faith retorted, heating up. "I couldn't find anyone."

"Then you need to try harder," Xander said, shaking his head. "Look, I picked you 'cause I thought you could do the job. You had the connection to the girls, and you had the necessary motivation to see it through. The strength of character to see it through. Do I need to revisit that decision?"

"You saying I'm expendable?" Faith asked, angrily.

Xander shook his head. "No. I'm saying you're replaceable. I made the call to keep you here. I pulled strings to keep you here. If I made a mistake, that's on me. But, I will fix it. And, if that means I gotta put one of my own people in here, I will."

Faith said nothing, looking away and crossing her arms.

Xander breathed in deeply through his nose. "Look, I'd hit the stores. Occult book stores, find out where they're getting their stuff from and who they know. The writers. You need academics. At this level, they all run in the same circles, so you put the word out, you might get a hit back. The rest is up to you."

The slayer turned to look at him, not knowing what to say.

"I want…I want to be able to make things easier on you. I really do," Xander said, voice softening for a moment. By decision. "But, there are issues that make it better for all of us if we have some sort of discrete distance. I can't let my bosses be directly connected to a vigilante group. Especially one with such…history. I can't give you all the answers."

"Did you mean what you said?" Faith asked after a moment. "About the slayers being obsolete?"

Xander chuckled dryly. "So Abby told you about that. I'm thinking long term. But, yeah. I mean, you got a generation of girls, strong girls, super powers, and they'd be a big help all over. Especially right now. But, they're draftees. All of you. Given the chance and the choice, some of you might have chosen this life. And good on you for that. We could use all the help we can get. And in twenty, forty years, maybe we'll be able to take volunteers only. A draft is a horrible idea. Hell of a way to fight, and it's just going to get people killed."

"What are you saying?" Faith asked, beginning to see some of where Xander was coming from. It was a lot different than her perspective. Where she wasn't even thinking about what was going to happen next year. Where next month was a luxury.

"If you want peace, real peace, you don't just bomb a city to take out a few terrorists that may be hiding in there. And you don't occupy them, turning the whole thing into a quicksand pit," Xander explained. "What are your teams? I'm not talking about the strike teams. But you get word of something, maybe brewing with maybe some chance of roughhousing, what do you send?"

"A watcher, a slayer or two. Maybe a wizard or witch," Faith answered.

"Mind, muscle, and magic," Xander covered the basic points. "We're recruiting. Ex-alphabet agency types. Cops. MP. Independent wizards. Coven. Shamans. And, when we need to kick the door down, we have guys that can stand up against a demon. One for one. Better than that being the goal. We can get an army of slayers. But, an army's no good unless you want to turn the country, the world, into some totalitarian regime. A vampire, wizard, demon starts making a ruckus in Chicago, you're going to need a group in Chicago dealing with it. You got someone starting a vampire nest in some one road town, they're going to need someone to call. It's not about saving the world. It's about making sure that the world is always safe. Not from Evil. The big E. But, from evil, whatever nasty supernatural form it may decide to take."

"It sounds like you're talking about going public," Faith said, eyes widening in surprise.

Xander smiled. "You want to change the world, the world's going to have to know about it."

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"Hey," Jack said, leaning about the side of the door. He looked at the blonde Wiccan that was seated at her desk.

Linda turned around, smiling as soon as she saw the man. He was sweaty, and smelled a bit, but she didn't care. She stood up and nearly launched herself at him. The witch kissed him hard on the lips, feeling his facial hair rub against her skin.

"Missed you," she said, when she disengaged to breath.

"I noticed," Jack replied, picking her up. He walked to her bed and laid her down, taking the time to take off his shirt. She mirrored the action on herself, taking the time to wave a hand at the door, magically forcing it to close.

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"You going to fight me?" Cindy said incredulously. She wasn't at one hundred percent, but she was almost there. She'd taken a quick nap in the car, working a restorative. Nothing that would work in the field, but with no danger, it let her regain her energy quickly. "Is that the way you do things around here? You so involved with magick, so obsessed with it, that it's the only way you can settle your differences with people?"

Willow took a slow breath and held it, letting the black bleed out of her eyes. "You're one to talk. If you're as deadly as you say you are, then you've got blood on your hands too."

"I work with Xander. We all got blood on our hands," Cindy retorted. "Only difference, I've learned to 

deal with what I have to do. Because I'm protecting something. My family. My friends. Innocent people. Take your pick. But, you…when you started in on the dark. What were you doing it for? What were you protecting? Anything? Or were you simply deluded enough to believe that your power made you worthy of deciding how things should go?"

Willow said nothing.

"I heard about it," Cindy said. "How you tried to use Proserpexa's effigy to burn the world. Cause you were in pain. Cause you were in pain, and thought that you knew what to do about that for everyone. Cause you had to be right."

"I wanted to end it. To keep people from having to feel…" Willow tried to say.

"Life is pain. You don't just get rid of it," Cindy said, derisively. "You wanted to end the world? World doesn't end until you're dead. So don't be a little bitch about it."

The blackhaired witch turned and started to walk out of the room. She paused at the entryway to the hall, and turned around. She knew that Xander still had affection for the other witch. And while it wasn't a blind spot, he would allow her to act unless she was directly causing harm. Also, she knew that the other witch would never tell him what she was telling her. Too much pride. "Do not go near him. Do not talk to him. From now on, he does not exist to you. I have too much invested in this to have you piss it away because you feel bad about how you treated him. Oh, and if you try to pull something as stupid as invading Xander's mind again? You do, and I will wish you away to the fucking cornfield. Before I do, I will tear your mind apart until there's nothing left but pain. Don't fuck with me, little witch."

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"Look, I got to take a shower and change," Xander said, checking his watch. He rubbed the small bandages on his neck, not feeling any pain or itchiness anymore.

"What caused that?" Faith asked, not really expecting an answer.

Xander just looked at her. "Magical dog started making trouble. Had to put him down."

"Right," Faith said, not pressing for answers she wasn't going to get. "Buffy wants to talk to you."

"Really. Really?" Xander asked. "That's surprising. This about the whole you working with her and how I fit into the mess thing?"

Faith nodded. "Pretty much."

Xander smiled. "Great. That's just great."

He looked at his watch again.

"You have somewhere to be?" the slayer asked.

"Yeah, one of my guys hit his one hundred today," Xander explained. "Got to take him out to celebrate. Can't exactly go like this, now can I?"

"One hundred?" Faith echoed, questioningly.

"One hundredth vampire kill," Xander continued. He waved a hand. "One of the guys at the Agency thought it up once when we were swapping stories. Bonding thing or whatever. Anyway, it stuck, and now it's tradition."

"Okay," Faith said. It was an odd thing to celebrate to her. "You had one of those?"

The hunter shook his head. "I hit a hundred before I joined up. Look, we're just going to go to some dive bar anyway, why don't you come along. Bring some of the slayers and watchers along. Bring Buffy."

Faith smirked. "You think she'll be less likely to cause a scene if you do it in a public place?"

"That, and I'd prefer not to be sober if I have to talk to her," Xander replied, grinning back. "Besides, I think it'll be good for your Council people to see that we aren't all just drones."

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The music in the place was loud, so they had to nearly shout to be heard. He was pretty sure that his voice would be hoarse tomorrow, but he didn't rightly care. A number of slayers and watchers had come out with them, some of them technically underage. Xander knew that it wasn't the type of establishment that particularly cared for that sort of thing, catering to beings on the other side of the fence and all. But, the owner and bartender was a decent guy, and would make sure that nobody had anything they shouldn't. Better for him that drunk slayers didn't start making trouble for the other patrons.

"Tell 'em about the thing," Jack shouted from his seat in the crowded bar. He had taken one of the spots on a low couch in the corner, Linda nearly sitting on his lap. He had a glass of whiskey in his hand, half gone. His fourth of the evening, between beers. "The thing in Philadelphia."

"No, no," Xander said, smiling. He put his beer down on the short, glass table in front of him.

"Aw, c'mon." Renee said encouragingly. "We want to hear it."

Vi nudged him in the side, wanting him to talk. She hadn't heard everything that he had done, though the important bits had been mostly covered.

"Okay, it was a few months ago." Xander took another sip of his long neck. "February actually. So, Curtis, Jack, and I are down there for a gig. Cindy and Abby had to do a thing in Vegas. Anyway, we're 

there right. New guy's in town, Haitian. Bokor by trade, if you want to call it that. He's raising a fuss, doing the whole zombie army thing."

"So what happened?" Lois said, from her place on one of the small seats on the opposite side of the table.

"Well, we got to get into his secret base thing, which was in a warehouse naturally," Xander continued. "And, anyway, we need to get close to him, but we can't exactly blend in. So it's up to Curtis, who is probably, like the straightest arrow we have around, not counting Paul. For whatever reason, they're all black zombies. I don't know why, maybe he's a racist jerk that thinks he's too good to make white zombies. So we make Curtis, strip down and put on a loincloth. And he's has to act like a brain-dead goon, right? Just moaning and walking around like it's freaking Dawn of the Dead."

Xander paused as Jack's constant laughter got louder, as did the laughter of some of the others that were around that knew the man in question. Curtis wasn't there yet, wanting to finish up some of the after-action work, but he wouldn't be too pleased when he got there.

It wasn't that funny, but in their current inebriated state, it was funny enough.

Xander took another swig of his beer, emptying it. He motioned for one of the waitresses to bring him another. She looked at him appreciatively, recognizing him by the eye patch. She allowed her tail to brush by his leg, as if on accident, though the look on his girlfriend's face conveyed that it had been noticed.

He waited until the waitress had left before continuing. "So anyway, it turns out that technically, this bokor was blind. So it was all for nothing, and we could have just walked in and blasted him. Which we did. Curtis was not pleased by it."

Jack continued to crack up audibly.

Xander felt, rather than heard, his phone ring. He excused himself from the group and walked around toward the bathroom, passing the waitress that was bringing him his beer. He indicated that she should leave it on the table, taking care to avoid the tail.

After Xander had moved past, he took out his cell phone and opened it. It was Curtis.

He stepped into the bathroom and checked to make sure that he was alone, before accepting the call. "What's up?"

"I've got the preliminary report. There's going to be some info for us to move on, once we figure out the names," the voice on the other end of the line reported. "I've already had them crosscheck it with the Council currently. Minor dealings for the most part. We're clear on the thing."

Xander nodded to nobody in particular. He also knew what thing that Curtis was talking about. "Good. 

I'll probably be able to tell Faith tonight."

"You think that's the best way to go about it?" Curtis asked. The sounds of the highway were audible on the line with him. The man was on the way to the bar. "There is a link between Garza and the Council after all. We knew that going in."

"She'll be annoyed enough as it is, for not telling her straight up. Along with the other stuff that already went down today," Xander replied. "We're going to have to chance it, and make sure we monitor where the information is passed. Look, you going to be here soon?"

"Twenty minutes or so," Curtis said. "You do it yet?"

"Naw," Xander spoke into the phone. "Waiting for you to get here. Besides, Faith and Buffy haven't gotten here yet, and I figure it's best if they see it."

"Think it's a good idea?" Curtis asked. The psychology of the ritual wasn't lost on him, but given the competitiveness that he knew existed among the slayers, he wasn't so sure that emulation would be good for them. It could make them sloppy to want to achieve some goal that wasn't particularly important in the long run.

"I've never been a fan of it, you know that. As for them, they can't keep the slayers cooped up forever," Xander stated. "That, and it can only help us for them to see us as people rather than killing machines. That's for the bad guys. Get here when you can."

"Will do," Curtis said into his cell phone. "And Xander, there's some evidence to suggest that Giles may have been complicit in some of Garza's dealings."

"Complicit," Xander repeated, sighing. "Or facilitate?"

"Looks like it wasn't that far. But, there's evidence that the Council was dealing with this guy for more than just minor arms. They had to suspect something. With what it looks like they bought at times, they had to wonder about his supply chain." Curtis knew that it wasn't something that Xander wanted to hear, but it had to be said. "I doubt any of them would go so far as working protection for the types of deals that Garza was working on."

"Meaning that he's not one to talk about our methods," Xander thought aloud. "Of course, the opposite is true as well. To an extent."

Curtis shrugged, though Xander wouldn't be able to see it. "Pretty much. "

"That it?" Xander asked. "Fast work."

"Thanks. There is one more thing," the former FBI agent said. Papers rustling could be heard, as Curtis pulled a piece of paper from a file that rested on the passenger seat. "The buy that we interrupted. 

Altir Bakir was the buyer for quite a load of high explosives, Stingers, and other assorted materiel. Apparently, it was going to be used for an attack in the United States. A series of attacks. The guys at Homeland are still working on it, but there were rumors that he was planning multiple terror strikes on relatively unsecured targets. Car bombs in front of government buildings, shooting down airplanes. Easy to plan and execute. Low fatality rate for each, but you can understand how this would affect people."

Xander nodded grimly. "Mass panic. Not to mention the crackdown that would result."

"They had no idea that he was even in country," Curtis spoke in a soft voice. "You still hate this job?"

Xander paused, considering. "It has its moments."

"I know you didn't come into this the way you may have wanted to," Curtis continued. "But, it's necessary. And, as bad as it may get, it is worth it."

"Thanks," Xander said, after a moment. "Get here when you can. Bye."

He ended the call and slipped the cell phone back into his pocket. Splashing some water onto his face, he made sure that he was put together before exiting the bathroom. It was time to get back to the party.

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Xander walked into the main room, the mass of people swallowing him up. There were still a number of supernatural creatures, though none of them were inherently evil. Those had made a mass exodus out the door when the mass of hunters and slayers had shown up. The proprietor of the drinking establishment would have been angry, if it wasn't for the rather large amount of money that Xander had dropped. He didn't just buy a couple of tables, but made sure they were stocked with the best and most expensive drinks that the bar served.

Xander watched as the lead slayers walked into the bar. He ducked his head as Buffy's eyes scanned past his general direction. He waited until she had approached the bar before going towards the brunette slayer. Robin was there as well, though he planned on talking to her alone.

"Come on," Xander said, not stopping as he passed by the slayer. He caught Robin's eye and shook his head seriously as the field watcher made to follow.

Faith followed without question, heading towards the back of the bar with Xander. She continued out the back door, noting that none of the employees made to stop them. Obviously, Xander wasn't just a normal patron there.

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"We have had a security leak," Andrea spoke aloud. His voice filled the ancient chamber that the order was using as a meeting place. "We have determined that one of the Sisters let slip word of the presence of one of the chosen here. Also, our internal computer network was penetrated and building plans were stolen. The network has been updated and is now secure. And, Sister Beatrice has been severely reprimanded. However, there is still the matter of the information that was taken. I believe that Brother Paul has some information in that regard."

Paul stood up, inclining his head for a moment at the man that was the head of the Order of Michael. "Thank you. Based off of information from our allies in the United States and elsewhere, we suspect that remnants of the Watchers' Council have reformed and are in the process of acquiring slayers for their use. With the numbers that are under the command of either the new Watchers' Council or various allies, it is logical that they are looking for the relatively unsecured ones to appropriate for their own use. Logically, they are under the impression that that is the case here. We need to tighten security and make sure that Mariella is not vulnerable to abduction. Furthermore, finding out exactly who is responsible for these intrusions is of vital importance."

"Thank you," Andrea said. "Paul, I want you to pick a team to work on this. Security is of the utmost concern here, so you will be operating in secret until you are finished."

"And our allies?" Paul asked, taking a seat.

"Keep it quiet for now," Andrea spoke. "Only bring our allies in if absolutely necessary. We cannot be sure if they have leaks of their own."

"Very well," Paul replied. He wasn't particularly happy, but knew that it was important to keep things secured until the organization could be checked for further breaches. Besides, he had more important things to think about. Like deciding who would best work for this operation.

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"It's a nice night," Xander said, looking up at the sky. He supposed that there was a better than average possibility that an agency satellite was hovering in space over Cleveland. It had probably been worked into the rotation.

"I guess," Faith said, leaning against the brick wall of the building. Her leather jacket protected her from the chill in the air. All the same, she crossed her arms across her chest. "What's up?"

"How's Buffy?" Xander asked, continuing to look up.

Faith shrugged. "She wants to talk to you. You're not going to get out of it, even if you hide out here."

"Figured," Xander said, smiling briefly. "Rona come?"

"Actually, yes." Faith looked at him. "How'd you guess?"  


"Just a guess," Xander answered, turning to look at her. "I was in New York in the winter. Not too long ago."

"Yeah?" Faith asked.

"There was a slayer there," Xander continued. He looked around; there was nobody else around. "She killed a couple of demons, and humans. Important ones. Caused some conflict in the city that needed to be taken care of."

"Okay," Faith said, thinking back to any new slayers that were working with the government agent. She couldn't think of any. That didn't raise her hopes. "What happened to her?"

"I had to offer her up. Only way to keep the peace," Xander spoke. He sighed, watching as his breath misted for a moment in the night air. It was turning cold. "Turns out she had some magic mind control thing put on her. Enough to get her to do what they wanted, but kept her independent enough to be useful in a fight."

Faith frowned. "Where are you going with this?"

"We suspect that it was put into place by former Council guys," Xander said, looking her in the eyes. "We've been checking. Nothing linked to your Council, but we had to take the time to check. Anyway, we've worked up a protection spell to prevent our slayers from being affected. We need you to start coming up with times to do your slayers as well. You can't tell them what it's for, but it should be done sooner rather than later."

"Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?" Faith said, trying to keep from getting angry.

Xander knew that she wasn't talking about a plural you. "Like I said earlier, security reasons. I can trust you, but since I couldn't move on it, and you couldn't use anything with the knowledge, there was no compelling reason for you to know. There is now."

"So what's this about the Council?" Faith asked, accepting his explanation.

"Don't know yet," Xander replied. "That's the truth. We've been working it, and have a few leads, but there isn't much to go on right now. If there's anything that is useful, I'll make sure you know. Keep it quiet for now. I don't think there's anybody in your Council involved, but I don't know where the loyalties of all of them would lay if it came down to picking sides."

"You think any of our people would do that?" Faith asked incredulously.

"I think you need to remember that Giles really didn't have a problem with the notion of one girl in all the world being the only one doing the fighting," Xander rebutted quietly. "Don't forget, ain't none of us with our hands clean."

"What are you saying?" Faith asked. "We can't trust anyone?"

"I'm saying that Giles had no problem drafting underage girls into a war until he actually got to know one of them." Xander scratched at his neck. "I'm saying that Andrew wanted to rape Buffy. I'm saying that despite my government ID and grant of legal immunity, I'm guilty of murder. We aren't heroes. We aren't villains. We just are. Don't try to anticipate our behavior as if we were comic book characters. I do right by you. That's all you need to consider about my people. Yours, well, you have to decide that for yourself."

"So what do we do now?" the slayer queried. The words had struck her like a blow. She had been independent, but had grown to like the family that she had built around herself. To depend on them. It was hard to see them as flawed individuals, rather than the heroes that they wanted to be. Even Andrew, whom she barely tolerated as anybody more than a wannabe.

"Well, I'm going to go back inside and getting a drink." Xander started to walk towards the door. "And, then I'm going to talk to Buffy. Hopefully without things being thrown at me."

Faith watched as he went back inside. She pushed off of the wall, and stood in the middle of the alley. She breathed out, noticing the deepening cold. She felt alone.

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Xander moved through the crowd, barely causing a wake. He had honed his ability to blend into a crowd over the years, and despite the press of people, he was able to move quickly through it without causing a disruption.

He saw a number of people that he knew, some very well. Robin was talking to Eduard at the bar, and Satsu and Abby were going at in the corner. Jack had apparently drunk his beer. Giles had evidently deigned not to show up, but Andrew had apparently thought his imposed exile had time off for good behavior. He wasn't going to make a fuss about it that night, but he would keep an eye on the pseudo-watcher.

"Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world," Xander said to the small blonde standing next to him at the bar. He turned to face her, though she was currently looking in another direction. "That's the way it goes right? Although, this isn't exactly a gin joint."

Buffy turned around, trying to hide her surprise. "Xander."

Xander could tell that the slayer was trying to keep herself from reacting to his presence. Especially his unexpected presence. "I hear you wanted to talk to me."

He didn't have to speak particularly loudly. Some spell lowered the sound of the music around the bar. It allowed ease in ordering drinks and let people actually hear one another without shouting. Helpful little thing that he wished had been applied to more bars. At least, more bars that knew about the supernatural.

"I suppose," Buffy said, hedging herself. "What did you want to talk to Faith about."

"Private stuff." Xander turned toward the bar, indicating his presence with a raised finger. He waited until the person behind the bar got over within hearing distance. "Can I get a beer here? Something Steelhead if you've got it."

He waited until the bartender had plopped a pint glass in front of him and left before turning back to the slayer. From the looks of it, it was an ale of some kind. He took a sip before speaking, "So I hear you guys are supposed to be working together."

It was more of a statement than a question, although it was a leading one. That was how Buffy took it, at any rate. "Yeah. So, what are you helping her with?"

"That's direct," Xander said, taking another pull. He looked at her again. "You want it direct, it's none of your business. Faith and I, we have a working relationship. We both had to put the legwork in to make it happen. Networking and all that. You can't come in at the eleventh hour, along with what else happened, and expect to be given the same courtesy. Or support."

"But, it's Faith," Buffy said, as if it that explained things. "We were…"

"Friends?" Xander finished for her. He put his beer down, wiping his wet hand on his pants' leg. "Even if you want to go that way, it doesn't work that way. You've been gone, and this is work. You haven't put the hours in, so you don't get to go the ball. What do you want from me?"

The slayer had to think about that. About what she needed and what she wanted. And what was best. "I want the old Xander back."

"We both know that was never a possibility," Xander replied. He did feel for her, but it was unfortunate that she was still looking into the past. "I know you don't trust me. I don't blame you for it, but don't think I don't know."

"I want in," Buffy said, strongly. Coldly.

Xander smiled. "What are you going to give me?"

"What?" Buffy said, taken aback by his question. She hadn't been prepared for a quid pro quo.

"You want something," Xander stated. "What do I get in return? If I have to support you, with information, or even specific supplies, that costs me. So what kind of return am I going to get on that investment? What could you possibly offer me that I'm not already getting from Faith or other sources?"

"I thought this was a war?" Buffy questioned, still confused by Xander's demands. "If it's so important to support each other, then why do you need something in return?"

"Because supporting you is an expenditure I need to justify to my superiors," Xander explained. It was mostly the truth. "And a risk I need to justify to myself. You haven't exactly acquitted yourself all that well lately. Not to me."

"If you won't even tell us who you work for, why should we trust you?" Buffy asked. "Why should we work with you?"

"You have that the wrong way around." Xander looked around, noting that nobody in the Council was around them. Curtis had just walked in, heading towards the bar. He knew that the former FBI-man had seen him, but had also seen whom he was talking to. His second wouldn't interfere. "It's not about whether I need to work with you. It's about whether I let you work with me. Faith gets me access to resources I don't necessarily have. People or other things. It also gets me contacts that may not be willing to work with me otherwise. But, that only goes so far. It really only means how many innocent lives have to be sacrificed if I have to move quickly. You can't afford not to work with me, and it's in your best interest to try to cultivate this relationship. Faith and Robin, at the very least, work at it. Maybe the best thing you can do to help is stay out of the way."

"When did you start sounding like this?" Buffy asked, not really recognizing the man in front of her. Although she did know that he had had a job, one where he had to wear a suit, it was hard to reconcile that image and the vocabulary with the high school student she had hung out with.

Xander ignored the question. "You should have stayed gone. I know what you're trying to do. But, you're going at it all wrong. Still."

"What are you saying?" Buffy snapped.

Xander sighed, closing his eye for a moment. "You really want the truth?"

Buffy hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yes."

"Okay. Physically you aren't bad," Xander started. A part of him knew that he shouldn't. And that it wouldn't really change much, but at least it would probably get her off his back. And Faith's. For a while at any rate. "I've seen better. It's not even who wants it more. I'm talking about training. I'm talking about taking it seriously. Yeah, some people have a natural aptitude for it. Vi is pretty damn good at it. Flexible, quick, strong. Maybe in the top tenth percentile amongst slayers. In addition, she's tactically brilliant in hand to hand combat. Abby's been training for most of her life, one way or another. Family background. That also influences mindset. She thinks like a marine. She moves like one. She's got the drive."

Xander took a moment to look at the blonde slayer. She didn't look happy, although she had refrained 

from doing anything physical. Small blessing. "You don't. That's not a bad thing. You're strong, all slayers are strong. You're quick. You were a cheerleader so that gives you coordination and all that. You're decisive. These aren't necessarily bad things. But, Vi works great in teams. Everyone loves her. And Abby's had it engrained in her to follow the chain of command. That doesn't limit her independent thought process though. She can think on her feet, and doesn't require constant supervision. But she'll accomplish the mission as specified."

"What does this have to do with me?" Buffy asked, after listening to Xander talk about how great his slayers were.

"There's a balance that needs to be struck," Xander answered. "That needed to be struck. Between following the orders of someone that was looking at the long game, and being able to handle the unpredictability of actually having to fight. You couldn't really do either. I mean, the way you decided to take on the Mayor wasn't bad. Thinking back on it with what I know now, I'm not surprised that it worked. Admittedly, there were a number of flaws and too many things were left to chance, but it wasn't bad. Thing is though, you got lucky. That only happens so many times. And that one event doesn't mean you have it in you to be a leader. To make these calls. "

"I've lasted seven years," Buffy interjected. "More even. That's got to count for something."

"You wouldn't be alive if I hadn't decided not to listen to you." Xander picked up his beer again, drinking some of it. He could barely taste it. "And, you aren't the slayer that's been alive the longest. Not really."

"Maybe I've made some mistakes…" Buffy said, drifting off.

"You've done a lot of good. You were ill-prepared for it, and you handled it as best as you could," Xander looked at her, trying to read her expression. She looked uncertain. Which was better than being bullheaded and unwilling to listen. "But, you decided to change the world. You decided to force things to change. And you have to consider what type of role you're really suited for in this new world. I've said that if you can contribute, you should. But, if you're just going to cause problems, then you should have stayed gone."

"You think it was wrong," Buffy said at last. "What I decided to do. To call all of the potentials. You think it was the wrong thing to do."

"I think that's that the wrong way to look at it," Xander replied. "It's done. Doesn't much matter if it was the right thing to do anymore. We have to deal with the fallout."

"And that's it?" Buffy asked. "You haven't been in the Council. You don't know-"

Xander drained the last of his beer and placed the empty glass on the top of the bar. He looked at the slayer. "I'm tired. I'm tired of butting heads with you because you think you're right. You're not. I'm better at this than you. With a phone call I can mobilize millions of dollars in manpower and resources. 

I can get a spy satellite from France retasked if I need it to be. I didn't get that because of birthright nor being chosen by some random power. I got that because I've demonstrated that I can handle it. That I can make the necessary choices. Go back to hitting things. That's just about the only thing you were good at."

He walked off, heading towards Jack before the man got to inebriated. Although the Irishman had a rather impressive ability to hold his liquor. Which didn't surprise him on a stereotypical level. He turned around after a couple of steps. "Faith is the one. The one I go to, and that isn't going to be changing anytime soon. You support her, and we're fine. You try to hinder her in anyway, and I'll make sure that it's known that you're the one causing disruptions. Giles may have your back, but he isn't the only mouth they listen to. Don't try to play the politics on this with me. You haven't got nearly the game for that."

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"It's somewhere in Vatican City. Probably one of the main buildings," Chadwick said, laying down the blueprints he had in his hands. He put them on the coffee table of the flat that they shared. They'd had to pull the bugs a couple of more times until the Watchers had gotten the message, but it was still checked for them periodically. One of these days it would become an issue, but while they were needed, they'd both pretend that it didn't happen. Shadowboxing.

"Pretty difficult to figure this out. And to get these so I won't bore you with the details. Suffice it to say, that this is confirmed. This is the target." He pointed at one of the sheets. It displayed the layout of the exterior of some type of fortress or castle. It was one of the buildings on Vatican Hill in Rome. "There's going to be electronic security all over this place. Exterior and interior. Furthermore, the building probably isn't all that there is. It likely goes underground too. Training facility maybe. Housing areas. You can bet that there are security measures there as well. Electronics and security guards most likely. I'm working on trying to confirm what's really there. I don't know if we can trust what they've pulled up so far. Anyway, I don't know how much I can do. Without governmental resources, there's a limitation to what I can pull for somewhere that's not exactly an enemy."

"So, they're planning on invading an independent nation, a non-hostile country, to abduct someone," Lyle said, looking at the plans. "Not exactly what we were signing on for."

"That's for sure," Roger agreed. He scanned the papers. It didn't look promising. Doable, with guys that had their experience. He only hoped that if they were called upon to have the operation succeed, the strike team would actually listen to what they were told. "What are we going to do?"

"Our arms are monitored, so even if we can get inside, we can't take anything from here with us," Lyle thought aloud. "Wyndham-Pryce is going to have to come up with a pipeline for weapons and equipment if he expects to conduct the raid we set up. We might be able to use that channel."

"He could already have a source inside," Chad interjected. "Same person that acquired the plans for the place."

"Unlikely," Lyle spoke, glancing at the other man. "We've been planning under the assumption that there was no inside man. Even he isn't foolish enough to withhold this if he's planning on a successful insertion. Springing it at the last moment would be beyond stupid."

"So what do we do?" Roger inquired again. "If we stop this, we're going to need to an exit. And that's assuming we need to stop this."

"Okay," Lyle said. "Fair point. This is what we need. A way there, which should be handled by having to handle the operation from on-site. Even if we aren't making the insertion. Weapons, equipment necessary to taking on the force we're training. Vehicles for an exit, and a place to hide out when Roger sends his boys to come looking for us."

"We're going to need more than just a rabbit hole." Chadwick didn't like the plan. Not without knowing the full story. "If we decide to go through with this, we're going to have to run. All of us."

Lyle knew whom Chadwick was thinking of. He had people that could be affected as well, if he made the wrong choices. "We're going to need leverage. Whatever the package, we're going to need more. Plane tickets for our families. They need to get out when we move and disappear. We can find them again when the dust settles."

"We're making the assumption that whatever is on the other side is better than who we're working for," Chad stated. "Hell of a thing to assume."

Lyle nodded. "True, but we don't have a choice. We set this up, when we get on-site we can decide if we need to move. And, if we do find out who the other side really is, we can make the decision then what we need to do."

"So we need prepaid cell phones also," Chadwick said, thinking about the supplies that were necessary. "That won't be hard to get. The guns, that's harder. I'll see if anybody we know is still in the area. Maybe some of the old blokes in 5 can help us out."

"So that's what we do," Lyle said, looking at all of them. "We set it up, then decide whether or not to carry it out when we get there. We do this, and we're committed. Ourselves. Family. Everyone has to disappear if we decide to go through with it. We all have to decide if it's worth it to go through with the plan. It agreed then?"

The other two men glanced at each a moment before looking at their leader. They both nodded.

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"Alright," Xander said, nodding at Curtis who stood in the back of the private room. He waited until his second in command had closed the door before addressing the crowd again. He looked at the faces before him. He knew most of them well, in one form or another. It was somewhat disappointing that Paul wasn't there to celebrate with them, although he knew that the man had responsibilities of his own. "So we have this thing to celebrate."

Xander walked forward and pointed over to the right at Jack. A big grin was on the Irishman's face. "One hundred. Simple, large, round number. One hundred vampires dusted. One hundred down, my man still up and walking. That's all it comes down to. He doesn't get a bonus for it though."

There was some polite laughter.

Xander waited for it to die down. "There was a guy. I worked with him in Africa, then latter around here. Off and on. Independent hunter type, a lot of you guys know the type. Intense, loss in the family. Got caught up in it for vengeance or revenge. He worked through that though. Made it a calling, not because he wanted revenge or redemption. But, because he thought it was the right thing to do. Because he was one of the few that new the truth of the world."

He took a drink of water, taking a moment to check the crowd's reaction. Most of them didn't know the story, so they didn't know where he was going with it. The others though, their subdued expressions showed that they understood his point already. "Shane Krasinski. That was his name. We were in Bogota at the time, doing the normal thing. Not a world saving thing, but people were in trouble, and he needed a partner. So I figured, what the hell, and went with him. It wasn't anything big. Just some random demon posse making a ruckus. He mentioned that he'd tapped a couple of vampires before I got there. Made his total on that up to ninety nine vampires in nearly ten years of hunting. Said that he was looking forward to hitting the triple digit."

Xander paused for a moment, deciding to let that lump in his throat slow him down. He hadn't known the man very well, and in truth only worked with him because he was good at what he did. At the time, he hadn't much cared about Shane's reasons for his actions. It was different now. "He bought it in the jungle. He died, not because he was stupid. Nor because he wasn't skilled. Not because he was particularly slow. The other guy was just faster. Luckier. Ninety nine. And Shane's dead. Way it goes. I buried him in a hill in Bogota. Put a bunch of rocks on his grave to prevent the animals from getting to his body. Properly overgrown by now. Nobody knows what happened there, or that somebody died. Way it goes."

"There's a risk with what we do. Whether it's the first time." Xander scanned the crowd, his eyes passing over Lois. One of the slayers he didn't know personally. He continued until he was looking at Jack. "Or the hundredth. Way it goes."

Xander reached over and grabbed a glass of whiskey. He raised it, not speaking, until the others had raised their own. "One hundred. One hundred vampire kills. One hundred. But, we're not here 

celebrating that my man over there killed one hundred vampires. We're here because he killed one hundred vampires and he's still here."

He could see some of the crowd nodding. Curtis, who had lost friends in the line of duty. Some of the senior slayers who had lost friends in Sunnydale. Some of the watchers he had worked with who had lost friends when the First had come a calling. Faith, who knew more than most what it meant to just be alive. Buffy, who seemed to remember her own failings, and those that died. A part of him wished that Willow had shown up. But, Kennedy was there. There was probably something to that. He'd have to figure out what.

"To one hundred," Xander said, the crowd echoing his toast. He smiled; it was a night of celebration after all. Everyone got to live tonight. He raised his glass even higher. "To life."

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Author's Note: Just a reminder, I'm probably going to be able to do about one chapter a month. And I may comment on reviews in my profile. Thanks for reading.


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